Cross my heart, hope to die
by Jinxgirl
Summary: Post Chosen. After Buffy's death, Faith is devastated; it's up to Xander to help her along the process of grieving and to discover how her death will affect the future.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Author notes: I do not own these characters. This takes place about a year Post Chosen. I also do not own any song lyrics quoted in this.

I've hardly been outside my room in days,  
'cause I don't feel that I deserve the sunshine's rays.  
The darkness helped until the whiskey wore away,  
And it was then I realize the conscience never fades.  
When you're young you have this image of your life:  
That you'll be scrupulous and one day even make a wife.  
And you make boundaries you'd never dream to cross,  
And if you happen to you wake completely lost.

Missy Higgins, "The Special Two"

Not a single day passed where Faith didn't see it, relive those final moments with just as much vivid feeling as she had the day it happened. The strength and efficient skill to their movements as they fought in complement to each other, the adrenaline pulsing through her, the energy almost visibly passing between them, pumping each other up, increasing their abilities with each other… the way Buffy's long blonde hair flew out in a slow wave-like fan with every turn of her body, shining brightly under the moon's soft glow. The racing of her heart, the physical release and sense of wholeness she felt each time her fists and feet made contact with their opponents. The triumphant, exhilarated smile Buffy flashed in her direction as she turned her head towards her for a split second… the way her hazel eyes glinted, holding Faith's in a moment of shared intimacy, a moment Faith had not preserved, had not cherished as much as she should have… a moment she had not then fully understood.

And then Buffy's eyes bulged, their light fading, dimming rapidly as her mouth gaped open, blood spilling forth from her lips, dripping down onto her chest…a chest from which the spiky two foot appendage from the massive creature they had been battling was now protruding, its tip through Buffy's heart waving aggressively.

The sensations of it all overwhelmed Faith each and every time…the scent of Buffy's blood, thick, metallic, and nauseating in the sheer amount produced, enough that her stomach flipped over with sickening urgency. The feeling of being outside herself, unable to move, unable to comprehend… the dryness of her mouth, so sudden and total that she was sure she would choke on it, stop breathing entirely. The sound of her own heartbeat, so loudly and wildly pounding its staccato in her veins, and the horrible gasps emerging from Buffy's lips, pained attempts at words…

But worst of all was seeing it…just to watch Buffy's agony, to watch her life fading fast before her eyes, and to know that she could do nothing. To know that she would fail to save her. To feel the screams tearing her voice apart, the shrill unbelief and anguish rising sharply in her tone, and to view it as an utterance outside of herself and her pain…

Faith always woke up with her throat raw and aching from her cries, her body sweating, shaking, yet somehow so chilled she could not get herself to become warm. She would curl into a fetal position, her eyes closing tightly as warm tears squeezed past her lids, and she knew that she could not comfort herself by saying it had only been a dream. It had been a dream, but she knew very well that it was all too real.

Faith hadn't been there… she hadn't even seen Buffy for several days before it happened. But she knew with no need to verify details that it had happened… and whether she had truly been there or not when it did, she had failed the other Slayer all the same. She had not been able to save her.

* * *

She couldn't attend the funeral. She had tried, but she simply could not force herself to go through with it. Faith had gotten no closer than the front gate of the cemetery before her throat closed over, grief and panic choking her, her limbs tensing so that it was an effort to move them, and she had turned and fled blindly. She was unable to look any longer at the sea of black clothing before her, the pale, grief-stricken faces, the soft sobbing she could already hear before the service had even began. She could not handle the accusations from the others that she was sure she would face, the questioning as to her right to be there at all… and they were right. What right did she have to be with all of them, to mourn Buffy as they were, to behave as if Buffy had loved, respected, and welcomed her every bit as much as those she had long considered her family?

She had no right. If Faith were suffering, it was fitting only that she suffer alone, in penance for all she had done against Buffy, both in the past, and in her death. She had not saved her. Three times now Buffy had died, this time for good, and here stood Faith, as infuriatingly, unfairly alive and well as ever… it should have been her. What fate had she cheated that she was still alive, when Buffy, the true heroine, the true savior, was dead?

The thought of Buffy, utterly lifeless, utterly still, unable to move or touch or feel or say anything to anyone, to her, ever again…the thought of her in a coffin six feet underground, removed from all others, forever, made Faith feel as though something in her chest were cracking, shattering into tiny pieces inside her. Was it truly possible for a person's heart to break, and still keep her alive…

So she ran, trying not to break down, trying not to simply fall to her knees and cry, to rage and beg the universe to make it right, to plead forgiveness from whatever it was out there that had chosen to punish her so harshly for her sins. She would have done so immediately if she thought it would truly have an affect… Faith would have done anything, if she thought it could have brought Buffy back.

But she knew by now that fate did not listen to any of her pleas, that the universe never took her side… and so she ran, and when she came across a bar at the edge of town, she stepped inside, finding another way to cope.

Faith drank until she lost count, drank until she could barely stand, until the bartender cut her off. Even so she managed to drink, for she made sure that several men were more than happy to provide her with more. She drank and she danced and she placed herself in the path of each man who looked her way, doing anything, anything to forget, anything to quiet the screaming of her own mind.

She didn't know how she ended up back in a motel or how many men she took back with her, nor could she remember what they had done together. All she knew was that in the morning she felt too sick and dizzy to move, to even open her eyes all the way against the sun streaming in through the slits of the motel blinds. All she could do through her fierce self-loathing was cry in painful, heaving sobs that only increased the pain in her head and brought forth violent retching into the trash can beside her bed. All Faith wanted then was to die.

No one tried to call, the first few days, and this was hardly surprising. There was no Angel now to try to watch out for her, no Wesley or even Cordelia, and the others… why would they care for her? Why would they even remember her at all?

She left only to buy more alcohol, more cigarettes, and to bring back men, but by the morning it was always the same. Whatever and whoever she did now, Faith knew she was alone.

* * *

It was probably two weeks before Xander could bring himself to try to track Faith down. For the first week and a half he hadn't even thought about her. It was difficult to think about anything but Buffy and the heavy grief and anger her death had overshadowed him with, the intense pain that her loss had inflicted upon the people who had become his family. It seemed that every year brought another loss upon them, and in that first week, Buffy's was too much for them- too much for him- to bear. They had mourned her once before, in the other occasion where he- where everyone- had been unable to save her… her second death. One would think that it would make this time easier…but they all should have known that it wouldn't. All those extra years, extra memories, extra depth of love and respect… it would never be less than excruciating to be cut off from it, forever.

Three strikes, and she's out… a sentiment that had repeated bitterly in Xander's mind for days, one he knew better than to express.

It was hard enough for him to deal with his own grief, but to see the others too, especially Dawn, made Xander want to rage violently against the unfairness of a world that could do so much to hurt such good people…a world that had never eased up on the true heroes, the people like Buffy. There was nothing he could do except be there for the rest of his family, to try to be strong for them.

And so that was what he did. He stuck with Dawn and Giles and Willow and tried to go on, tried to ignore that the person who had anchored them all together, made them family in the first place, was gone. He wanted nothing more than to be alone, to have time and space to deal in his own way and time, but he kept himself busy, so as not to think too much about Buffy… or of Anya. Why was it that every woman he ever loved seemed destined to die at the hands of evil, while he, Xander, who should have been the first and most likely to die, was left behind, helpless to do anything to fix the injustice of it all?

He didn't know, and this only deepened his pain. He felt he had cheated death… what other explanation could there be?

He wasn't sure why it had taken him so long to think about Faith. Maybe because she hadn't gone to the funeral… maybe because she was still not really a part of them, still kept herself on the very fringe of their group, if even that close. Maybe because even as she had spent more time working with Buffy, they had still never been what he would consider close. Xander didn't know. But eventually his thoughts extended to include her, and he began to feel the beginnings of concern for her, to wonder how she was coping…or if she was.

Not that anyone else, except maybe Kennedy, had noticed, or that either woman had ever spoken about it…but Xander hadn't missed the change in the usual tension between Faith and Buffy since they had began to spend more time working together in the past year. He wasn't even sure how aware they themselves were of it…but something was different. Had been different. he had watched them, sometimes, when neither woman was paying attention, and he had seen something in Faith's eyes around Buffy that he had never noticed before… he could have sworn that she felt more strongly about Buffy than she would ever let on to him, her, or anyone else. And if he was right… then the fact that she seemed to have totally disappeared since she had been told of Buffy's death could be a troubling sign.

He had asked around, but no one had heard from her or seen her since the date of Buffy's death. He called her cell phone several times, and then the number of the motel she had been staying in before Giles set up a place for her. He figured if she wasn't home, for whatever reason, and if she hadn't taken off, she might have gone there. This proved to be correct, as the front desk guy had informed him that there was indeed a Faith Lehane staying with them. After trying her phone a few more times, Xander had finally decided to go check in on her at the motel, if she were there when he went by. If not, well, then he'd have to keep trying.

He couldn't explain to himself exactly why it was that he cared so much. Anyone would have expected him, of all people, to be indifferent to anything Faith, of all people, decided to do with herself and her life. But Xander couldn't be…even when he had wanted to hate her, it had been an effort, unnatural to him, and it felt better, if not easier, to admit that in some way, somehow, he did care for her. He did, despite all that had gone down, wish Faith well.

And so it was because of all this that Xander found himself standing outside of Faith's motel door, knocking on it softly and hoping she was inside.

* * *

"Faith? Faith, it's Xander…can I come in?"

There was no response…but then, this was hardly surprising. Xander knew that it was possible that Faith wasn't in her room, but it was also likely that she was, and simply didn't want to answer the door, or to talk to him.

He knocked again, a little more loudly this time, and put his eye up to the peephole. He didn't expect to see Faith's eyes looking back at him, but he tried just in case. "Faith? Faith, will you let me in, please?"

Still no reply came, not even a shout for him to go away… and this too bothered Xander. It was almost ten am… hadn't Faith come home last night? Knowing her, almost anything could have happened. And if she were in the motel room, it probably wouldn't be wise for him to wait for some kind of response from her.

The motel door looked flimsy, and with a few swipes of his driver's license Xander had it open and was able to step inside. As soon as he could see the room's interior it became obvious to him why Faith, though present in the room, had not answered when he called out to her, let alone got up to open the door.

The room stank so heavily of cigarettes that Xander almost choked when he stepped inside. The air felt thick and foul, and he found himself wondering if it was possible for an non-Slayer to get lung cancer through one instance of such heavy exposure to smoke. He could hardly walk on the floor, for nearly every inch of it was strewn with Faith's belongings or discarded items. Cigarettes and dirty clothes, empty pizza boxes, bras and thongs, towels and what looked like pieces of torn up photos. Her trash can was overflowing, two used condoms on top, and the number of empty beer bottles piled beside the bed shocked Xander. Quite obviously Faith had not been taking care of herself.

She was lying on her side in the bed, facing the wall, the thin blanket scrunched down so that it only covered her shins. She looked thinner, pale, clad only in a rumpled tank top and bikini panties, and her hair was greasy, tangled about her face and shoulders. She looked so unwell at first glance that Xander's heart seized, for he feared she was dead.

"Go away," she muttered as he quickly came to the bedside, having to kick a lot of her things scattered about the floor away in order to do so. Her voice was barely understandable, even less so when she rasped again a few moments later, "Go away…"

"Sorry, Faith," Xander said quietly as he came up alongside her bed, pausing and standing there for a moment, looking down at her and assessing her condition. "Can't do that until I know you're okay… and that, that is starting to look like an impossibility."

"Fuck off," Faith muttered, and her head just barely moved on the pillow. She was still facing away from him, her voice rough, gravelly, and she couldn't seem to muster the energy and conviction needed to sound truly angry. "Leave me alone."

Xander wondered if she even recognized his voice, if she had a clue who it was standing over her…or if she was capable of caring. Staring down at her, he let his eyes follow the length of her, for once not thinking about her exposed skin- although the thought was also prominent in his mind of course- so much as how strange it was to see her, Faith, in such a state…and how strange and sad it made him feel. He should be angry at her for being like this, for giving up like this, for letting herself fall so far so fast…but he couldn't be. He looked at her, and all he could see was Faith's pain… pain, and a strange vulnerability that encompassed her in an almost physical way, overshadowing her gruffness and grubbiness.

Xander couldn't leave her like this any longer. He knew he couldn't. Now that he was here he would have to step in and do something, pull her out of this, at least for today… after that, he didn't know. All he could do was deal with right now.

Slowly he sat on the edge of the bed as he continued to look at Faith steadily, ignoring the stained sheets beneath him as he spoke to her, not yet trying to touch her. He really wouldn't know how to go about this with anyone, and now, this being Faith, it was that much harder. But he kept his voice calm and low as he began, kept his eyes focused on her back, tracing the knobs of her spine showing through her shirt.

"When did you last eat something, Faith?"

No response, not that he expected it. He kept his patience, tried again.

"Showered…washed your clothes? Spent a day sober?"

Nothing, except a stiffening of her spine. He sighed, abandoning the question approach, and decided to just speak.

"Faith…you can't do this, Faith."

Faith didn't reply; she only shifted slightly, making a noise somewhere between a groan and a shuddery sigh, and Xander repeated himself in the same firm, quiet tone.

"You can't do this, Faith."

"Yes I can," she slurred, and her movements were more pronounced this time. She went so far as to cover one of her ears with one hand, mashing the other into her pillow, though the movements were jerky, uncoordinated. "Yes I can…fuck off, leave me alone…"

"Okay…maybe you can," Xander acknowledged, realizing quickly that this conversation was getting them nowhere. He wasn't going to be able to talk to Faith, not the way she was right now… he would have to just act. "Let me make it a little more clear to you, though…/I/ can't let you do this."

At that, Faith barked out a noise that sounded partly like a sardonic laugh, partly like choking, and her head lifted slightly, though she did not roll over to face him. Though still not entirely clear, her voice was louder, more intense, than before as she replied.

"Yeah you can, Xan, my man… why the hell not? It's not like you care… you don't care. Not like it matters… it doesn't matter…"

"Yes it does, Faith… and yes, I do."

With those words spoken quietly, Xander stood, abruptly moving to lift Faith into his arms. He braced himself, knowing that although she was small and slim, almost skinny now compared to when he had last seen her, he would not be able to carry her if she put up a fight. In fact, if she got angry enough at this invasion of her personal space, she could easily injure him seriously. As Xander wasn't sure whether her inebriated state would help or hinder her in that, he was taking a pretty big gamble just by touching her.

As he had expected, Faith did not react passively to being picked up. She squawked, trying to twist her torso, to wiggle out of his hold, yelping even more loudly than she had managed before.

"HEY! What the fuck, lemme go… what the fuck are you doin', lemme down, lemme go…what the fuck!"

She tried to break free of Xander's arms, but her movements were much weaker and less controlled than normal, and he was able, with extreme effort, to maintain his grip on her. He could feel her heartbeat racing wildly in her chest, against his own, almost in sync in an erratic way, and he tightened his hold on her, as much in an attempt to provide reassurance as to keep a good grip on her. Though her body was tensed and fighting him, he was able to register how hot her skin was, almost fevered, and how easily he could feel the bones of her ribs and spine. Again he wondered if she had been eating or sleeping at all…

He carried her into the small, crowded bathroom, trying to ignore the filthy state of the toilet, tub, and floor, and deposited her in the tub, still dressed, as if she were a small child. Faith tried to stand, railing at him in a slurred indignant tone, but found herself too weak and clumsy to be able to do so. When Xander turned on the shower, however, with the water stuck on the iciest temperature possible, she screamed, her eyes bulging.

"FUCK! FUCK, holy shit, you asshole, FUCK!"

She tried to stand again, clawing at Xander's arms, reaching for his face, but the shock of the cold water temporarily incapacitated her limbs even further, and the water made her slip, unable to stand. Kneeling beside her, Xander concentrated on keeping her in the tub, not yet wasting energy to speak to her. Faith made no such effort.

"FUCK! Get me the fuck out of here, what the fuck is wrong with you?! Get me out, you fucker, you bastard, get me out!"

Xander held her shoulders the best he could, saying nothing at all, trying to meet her eyes, to ride out the course of her rage, praying he was doing the right thing. He could feel his own clothes growing damp from her splashing and clutching at him, could tell that he would be bruised and battered within a few minutes, even as weakened as she was. Still he waited for her to give in, to wear herself down. She had to, right?

It happened quite suddenly. It seemed to him that one moment Faith was screaming, straining against him, her wet hair flying as she jerked her head back and forth. And in the next moment she was going still, her face crumpling, before breaking down into harsh sobs that shook her entire frame. Her shoulders hunched forward sharply, and she let go of Xander, slumping back against the tub's walls, her head lowering, her cries overtaking her.

Watching her, Xander's throat constricted. He hesitated, weighting, struggling, before reaching for her, pulling her as close against him as he could get with the tub outer wall separating them. He could feel her shaking, could feel the dampness of her clothes and her tears quickly soaking him as well, and Faith tried to speak, her words broken.

"I didn't…she's dead. She's dead… I didn't' help…I didn't save…Xander, she's dead. Xander, she's fuckin' dead…"

"Shh," he murmured, his cheek against her head, his mouth thinning, forcing back any expression of his own. His hand ran slowly over her sodden head, and he swallowed, staring past her to the shower wall. "Shh… I know. I know."

He held her as the water streamed steadily upon them, making both cleaner in appearance, if not at heart. He held her as she wept, and he kept himself distant, kept himself removed, even as his actions, his thoughts, cleaved to the very heart of him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Though I've tried, I've fallen...  
I have sunk so low  
I messed up  
Better I should know  
So don't come round here  
And tell me I told you so...

We all begin with good intent  
Love was raw and young  
We believed that we could change ourselves  
THe past could be undone  
But we carry on our backs the burden  
Time always reveals  
In the lonely light of morning  
In the wound that would not heal  
It's the bitter taste of losing everything  
That I've held so dear.

"Fallen" by Sarah McLachlan

Xander wasn't sure how long it lasted, how long they remained, nearly motionless, kneeling together in the tiny space of the motel bathroom. It seemed that Faith had an endless store of tears inside her, and they had built up so long and so deeply that once whatever had been blocking them gave way, she was unable to stop every last one from spilling out. It seemed to Xander an eternity that she wept, her pain too much, too heavy, too crushing for either of them to be able to lessen, let alone cause to cease. The air seemed hot and thick to him, more difficult to breathe in, and he wondered if this were because of the heavy emotion seeming to physically spread out and fill each corner of the room. Maybe the extra carbon dioxide from all Faith's shallow, rapid breaths contributed, Xander didn't know. He only knew that his own breathing was uneven, his throat slightly choked, though perhaps this too was a result of only emotion- his.

Faith had given up speaking long ago and simply abandoned herself to her tears, her face mashed against Xander's shoulder, her nose awkwardly pressed against his collarbone. Xander knew, of course, that she was crying for Buffy, for herself, from pure pain and exhaustion, but it was more than that too. Everything…how things were, how they had been, how they could have been… so many memories, so many regrets, everything seeming so futile, so purposeless. So many "if only"s and nothing, nothing could change them now. Nothing could make any of this better.

Xander understood this, and so he said nothing to the contrary, no hollow words meant to comfort that would only deepen both of their despair. He simply held Faith as tightly as he could to his chest, one hand cradling the back of her head, his arm wrapped around her back, keeping her upright against him. He could feel her chest heaving against his with each ragged breath, could feel her shivering under his arm, could feel her warm breath and warmer tears soaking his neck and shoulder, and something cooler and stickier he suspected might be mucus. He felt this and ignored it, just as he ignored the hardness of the tub wall pressing into his lower torso, the icy run of water beating down over his shoulders and face. He ignored the way the water had almost immediately caused Faith's tank top and panties to become clingy and see-through, revealing that she was not wearing a bra, and he didn't look at her, but rather past her, staring over her shoulder at the slightly moldy shower wall. He held her, providing a solid presence, something to keep her together when it felt to both of them like everything in the world was working against them, trying to tear them apart from the inside out, and he waited…just waited.

Eventually Faith's crying began to ease, slowing from harsh, full blown sobs into quieter tears, before tapering off into only occasional sniffing. Still Xander waited, keeping his arms around her, ignoring the aching of his knees, of his arms and chest where she had beat him, the goosebumps down his arms from the shower's steady stream. He gave her the chance to make the first move, however she might choose to do so.

The only issue with that was that Faith didn't. She remained slumped against him even after her tears had ceased, her face buried in his shoulder, her body leaned heavily against him, shivering, as though seeking to share his body heat. She seemed too drained to speak, let alone move, and as Xander looked down at her, thinking about it, he realized that it was probably true. There was no telling when Faith had last eaten a decent meal, slept an adequate amount of hours, spent any length of time sober… and between her physical state, the cold, and her grief, it looked like it was up to him to take charge of things again.

Xander let her remain against him for a few more moments as he thought, weighing out options, before gently holding her back a slight distance from himself, looking her over. Faith's eyes met his dully, their irises dark, lifeless, and it seemed to Xander that she was not looking at him so much as through him. She was still shivering, her shoulders slumped heavily, and the utter forlorn misery in her nearly vacant expression made Xander swallow, made him want very much to look away.

"You probably have a headache now," he said quietly, and he gently pushed Faith's sodden hair off of her face before reaching to shut the shower off, letting the spigot run instead. "Let me help you, Faith, okay?"

He knew very well that in any other circumstances, it would very much not be okay with her. At any other time Faith would never have allowed Xander to see her in such a weakened, vulnerable state, nor would she have accepted any offer of help, however small. But Faith was exhausted, barely able to sit upright, and this left no room for defensiveness or pride, no room for embarrassment. And this was something that Xander worked to his advantage.

One hand on Faith's shoulder, firm, steadying, Xander adjusted the temperature of the water, and put in the tub's plug, allowing it to fill up like a bath. He tested it with his hand, then left Faith sitting there, stirring slightly as he searched until he found sample soap and shampoo. He lay those in front of her on the tub's edge, hoping she would be able to use them herself. Likewise with undressing herself.

"You should use these, if you can," he said softly, indicating the items. He found himself tempted to reach out and run his fingers through Faith's hair, to stroke back strands from her face, but he restrained himself, simply looking down at her. "I'll give you a little privacy for a few minutes, Faith…if you need me, just call."

Faith didn't respond, but it seemed to Xander that there had been a faint glint in her eyes. He turned and exited the room, leaving the door cracked so he could still hear inside, and surveyed the mess of her motel room, exhaling slowly. There was no way he could continue to let her live like that… Xander was no clean freak himself, but this…this set off even his fairly high skeeve alert buttons.

He gathered up pizza boxes and trash bags, cigarettes and beer cans, taking them out in armfuls to the dumpster in the motel alley. He put all her clothes into one pile and then transferred them to his car, intending to take them somewhere to wash them. He stripped her sheets, opened the window and blinds, and aired the room out, checking on Faith every ten minutes or so. Each time he looked in on her she was simply sitting, unmoving. She had not taken off the remaining fraction of her clothes, so Xander left her alone, seeing as she didn't' seem capable of even attempting to self destruct any further for the moment. They would have to cross the whole clothes-wearing bridge when they got to it… he would worry about Faith's appearance once he had got her room to a point where it didn't look as obviously depressing and awful as she was feeling.

It took him a good while to get her room in decent condition, and for a stretch of time he forgot to check on her. Heading back towards the room, Xander stopped first by the vending machine by the lobby, getting a water, some granola bars, and three packs of aspirin for Faith. Since she had a hangover she'd probably need it, and he wasn't sure how many she would want. He suspected she could handle more than most with her Slayer metabolism.

He knocked on the bathroom door lightly before entering, though it was ajar rather than closed. He still didn't want to deal with the whole nude Faith thing if he didn't have to. Not because it would be such a horrible sight or experience- far from that- or even that he'd never seen her naked before- he had, many years ago, and she had been far from self conscious over it. It was just that things were different now, with him, with her…with this situation. He was already seeing her in such a vulnerable way, in a state of being she would never have wanted or allowed if she could help it. Anything added on top of that to give him any further edge over her would seem invasive, even cruel.

"Faith?" he called softly, and waited. When she didn't' answer, he eased the door open and stepped into the room.

Faith had been sleeping, or so it seemed, her head resting against the back of the tub, tilted at an odd angle. She looked bleary-eyed, slightly disoriented when she opened her eyes to look at him. As Xander watched her, he felt his heart twist in a way he tried to disguise, a way he would not have anticipated. When was the last time she had slept…

"Maybe we should save the bath for later," he said quietly, trying not to show anything approaching pity in his tone, but only casual, matter of fact statement. "You seem tired."

Faith's shoulders rose and fell very faintly in a shrug, but even this was more than Xander had expected. Slowly he sat on the closed lid of the toilet, across from Faith, but not too close to crowd her, and indicated the food he had set on the sink, the drink and aspirin he held in his hands.

"Thought you might want this…are you hungry? Thirsty?"

It felt strange to speak to Faith so softly, so gently, as if she were a small child or a wounded, skittish animal… but in the moment, it seemed to Xander that she was these things emotionally. He found himself wondering if the water had become cold, if it was food, drink, aspirin, or sleep that she needed most, wondering how best to care for her…and if the irony of that was insanely high, it also felt somehow right, as though this was the only option he had.

When Faith shrugged again, seeming either unwilling or unable to speak, Xander opened the water for her, holding it out to her. "Faith, why don't you drink some of this?"

She hesitated, still not meeting his eyes. With very slow movements she reached for the bottle, almost dropping it, and brought it to her mouth, taking a long swallow. Xander watched, a measure of relief swelling in his chest, and opened two of the three aspirin packets, pressing them into her hand.

"Take these. You can tell me if you need more later."

She tipped them all into her mouth and dry swallowed, coughing a little and making a face once they had gone down. Xander's chest tightened with hope at this reaction, but nearly immediately after Faith slipped back into blankness, her limbs loose in the water, and she would not meet his eyes.

He studied her, trying to be subtle about it, to decide what needed to be done. She was very still, her posture slumped, goosebumps riddled down her arms, and her eyes were red, cheeks slightly puffy. He wondered if she was in shock, or simply too weak, too tired, too numb with grief to make any sort of attempt to try to fix herself up. Whatever was the case, it bothered him deeply to look at her, to see her in such obvious anguish. That it was Faith he was looking at, Faith, who had so prided herself on her strength and independence, her lack of emotion or weakness, made this all the harder, and Xander had to keep from gritting his teeth with a sudden flash of rage. Not at Faith, but at a life that could do this to her…to all of them. A life without Buffy… a life that seemed determined to steal all the good from theirs.

Faith had been alone all this time. Through all the clearly intense emotion and pain she had been experiencing… while he and the others had stuck together, receiving support and comfort from each other, Faith had been alone. They had LET her be alone…they had forgotten her. HE had forgotten her…how could he have forgotten her for so long? How could he have let it go for so long, until THIS…

Well one thing was for certain. Faith wasn't going to be alone anymore- Xander would make sure of that. And she definitely wasn't going to be left alone tonight.

"I'll be right back," he told her quietly, and going back into the bedroom, retrieved the only semi-clean towel he had been able to find. Wiping his own damp face with it quickly, he gathered the jeans and shirt he had left out for her to change into. He hesitated, then grabbed a bra at the last second somewhat gingerly, feeling his face flush, and with his hand covered by the shirt, a pair of bikini panties as well from atop her dresser. Xander doubted they were clean, but they weren't soaking wet, by water at any rate, and that had to be an improvement.

Taking them into the bathroom, Xander lay them on the sink's edge, kneeling beside the tub and giving her a slight smile. Faith was still leaned back against the tub but her eyes drifted to watch him, almost making eye contact.

"Brought you these to change into," he said, trying to keep his voice light, casual. "Uh…do you need help getting out?"

He waited, but it was a while before she responded, with a very faint shake of her head. Nevertheless Xander stood close, holding the towel ready to give her in case she needed him.

Faith stood on her own, slowly, to be sure, still refusing eye contact, but she did stand, even if she had to grab the shower wall with one hand briefly for support. Again Xander felt heat flood his face, his heartbeat speed its tempo as she more fully revealed her form to him, so clearly visible through her skimpy wet clothes. He swallowed, trying very hard not to let his eyes wander from her face more than was necessary, but even with his concern for her and her lack of her usual flirtation or blatantly sexual behavior, it was a difficult thing for him to accomplish.

She had more trouble stepping out of the tub and tripped, nearly falling, and probably would have ended up hitting her head on the toilet had Xander not caught hold of her shoulder. Steadying her, he helped her the rest of the way out of the tub, keeping his hands light but firm. Faith stood there, dripping, neither pulling away nor seeming to particularly desire his touch or support, and Xander reached for the towel, wrapping it over her shoulders quickly and trying again to meet her eyes- a task proving to be impossible.

"Faith, I brought some clothes for you," he repeated, indicating with his head the items still lying on the sink. "Should I leave so you can get dressed, or…do you need…"

She shook her head, but as Xander watched her, he was unable to tell what she meant. Did she want him to stay, or was she telling him she didn't need help? He wished she would raise her eyes to his, show something other than that eerie lost, almost blank look that scared him just as much as her anger might have…maybe even more so, because this passiveness was something utterly foreign to Faith and his understanding of her.

Xander paused, not sure how he should react, what it was that Faith wanted or needed from him… or even if what she wanted and what she needed were the same things. He wanted to help her, to continue to reach out to her…somehow he felt a drive, a NEED to do so. But what if what she really needed was to be given some more space, if the last thing she needed after showing so much weakness was to show even more? How would she feel- how would she react- if he continued to touch her without permission?

After several moments of indecision Xander's mind formed a compromise. Moving slowly, trying to make his intentions clear to Faith, he took the towel from around her shoulders and gently wiped her the beads of water and drying tears from her face, talking to her as he did.

"I'm going to leave you to change, okay…I'll be right here."

Faith didn't' say anything, didn't' respond in any manner he could discern. That, Xander took as consent. Taking the towel away from her face, he gently rubbed it over the ends of her hair, getting some of the excess water, and handed it to her, still speaking quietly. "Let me know when you're finished, okay?"

He didn't expect her to answer by this point, so he was surprised when Faith nodded faintly, swallowing, her eyes lifting upward for the briefest of moments. For just a moment she was looking at him, he could see the dark entangled thought shadowing her eyes… but then she was turning away, reaching with a jerky motion for the clothes, and Xander knew he was being dismissed.

He left the room and sat once more on the edge of Faith's bed, again leaving the bathroom door ajar. As he waited, he was aware of how quickly his heart was pounding, of the sick, strained tension in his chest. Though he was nearly dry now, though the motel room looked better, and Faith herself had began to respond somewhat, however listlessly, Xander couldn't stop worrying. He couldn't stop thinking of the shivering weight of her in his arms, the pain in her choked cries, the way he could feel the ridges of her spine and ribs. This could not go on… he couldn't let this go on. It shamed him to know that it had for so long…and both angered and sickened him that Faith would let it, that she would have such little regard for her life, even in the face of the loss of another's. However upset she was, however much pain she was in, and god, Xander knew very well how much pain had come about as a result of Buffy's death… even in the face of all that, how could she give up? Did she truly hold her life and herself to be so dispensible?

It hit him as soon as the question crossed his mind, and Xander's back straightened, his eyes darkening. She did. What Faith had been doing, what she was doing, made it quite clear that she did.

He wanted to go to her then, to check on her, make sure she was okay, but he made himself remain sitting, made himself wait for her to come to him. When she emerged slowly in the bathroom doorway, dressed, but no more spirited in posture or expression, Xander stood, again addressing her quietly.

"Faith, you know I can't let you stay here like you were anymore. You know you're going to have to come stay with me, stay the night at my place…don't you?"

When Faith twitched her shoulders in a shrug, Xander sighed slightly. Well on the bright side, at least she wasn't trying to argue with him or physically fight him anymore. He didn't know if he could have done it anymore. He could already feel the aching settling into his bones from her weak attempts at resisting him before, and he was too weary.

"Come on..let's go home."

If she noticed his words, Faith didn't say anything; perhaps she hadn't even heard him, or was too tired emotionally to become defensive. And Xander himself didn't have the energy to wonder what he had meant by referring to his place as home for her either. Taking her upper arm in his, he began to lead her towards the door, and then outside of the motel, towards his car. As Faith climbed into the passenger seat slowly, through the door he opened for her, she slumped back into the seat, staring out the window, he eyes strangely bright. Getting into the driver's seat, Xander put the car in gear and drove away in identical silence, feeling his mind settle to numbness even as his heart could not do so.


	3. Chapter 3

Cross my heart, hope to die  
Chapter 3

I leave the gas on, walk the alleys in the dark  
sleep with candles burning, I leave the door unlocked  
I'm weaving a rope and, running all the red lights  
did I get your attention cause I'm sending all the signs (that)  
the clock is ticking, and I'll be giving my two weeks  
your favorite shade of black, you best prepare a speech  
say something funny, say something sweet  
but don't say that you loved me

Cause I'm still breathing  
And we've been dead for a while  
this sickness has no cure  
we're going down for sure  
already lost a grip  
best abandoned ship

"I'm still breathing," Katy Perry

She was in a place beyond tears, beyond words, in a state too weary to conjure them again, however much they might be needed. Faith could feel the tightness still choking her throat, the harsh, continuous constriction pressing itself around her heart, but somehow the pain she was experiencing, both emotional and physical, felt partly outside of herself, distant and detached, too mentally, physically, and emotionally spent to focus very much at all, even the on sights passing by outside the window of Xander's car.

How had it come to this point… how she had let him maneuver her into this position, let him go forward with taking her home with him, Faith wasn't sure of, and didn't care. It didn't matter anymore. Who she was with, where she went, what she did… none of it mattered, to her or to anyone. She didn't matter to anyone… and if she did, she shouldn't.

She knew, cognitively, that she felt like shit, physically and emotionally both. Her head was aching, a steady staccato at her temples, her muscles sore, almost bruised-feeling, as though she had taken a beating- and given that she couldn't remember the night before, it was possible, even likely. She felt vaguely nauseous, her chest tight and pained, and her nose was stuffy, difficult to breathe out of… results of a hangover, though no doubt compounded by her dramatic breakdown as well. Still, even her physical discomfort Faith could not focus on, could do little more than be faintly aware of. She was so tired, yet so numb… as much as she just wanted to go to sleep, to forget everything, she would not. Her mind would not settle enough for sleep… and she was not ready now to handle the dreams.

Xander had been uncharacteristically quiet as he drove. She could feel him glancing at her occasionally, attempting to asses her, but Faith gave him very little to go by. She wondered vaguely how he had found her, what he thought he was doing with her now, but once more, she simply couldn't bring herself to care. It had happened… not like she could change it now.

At any other time, the thought of how she had broken down in front of Xander, showing such total and complete weakness, would have humiliated and horrified Faith to think about, but now, it was merely another fact, another thought among many invading her exhausted mind. Faith didn't care. So he had seen her at her worst, was realizing now just how utterly pathetic and worthless she was. What did it matter… so he tried to be the white knight today, tried to save her from herself. Given time he would see the waste of that… given time, he would leave her be.

Faith let her thoughts run, let her eyes close, but she did not sleep, did not even try to. And behind her closed lids, an image arose within her mind…Buffy, of course. It was always Buffy… but then, it always had been.

As Xander drove his mind flickered rapidly with thoughts and worries of what to do, what to say, and how he should do or say it. He tried to think of something to say to Faith, but only the most inane possibilities came to mind, bitten back just in the nick of time from being blurted out. In the end it didn't seem to matter, for Faith hardly seemed up to listening, let alone talking. By the time he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex she had her eyes closed, her head leaned back into her seat, and it looked to Wesley as if she were sleeping, or at least trying to.

He watched her for a few moments, just taking in the continued tension lining her features, the small wrinkles forming in her tightly closed eyelids, the slight slanting of her eyebrows, the sort of snuffling sounds barely audible in her breaths. He watched her, and an odd tightness pressed against his heart, so suddenly that he momentarily had to catch his breath. He found himself wondering with startling sadness if the young woman beside him, who had hurt him, his friends, shaken up his entire world just a few short years ago…this girl who had wreaked such havoc and destruction, had she ever once known peace in her life or heart?

Xander didn't' want to awaken her, but he had a decided feeling that attempts to carry her still asleep into the house would not end well if she woke up. Instead he lay a hand on her shoulder gently, speaking quietly in an effort not to startle her.

"Faith…we're here now."

She didn't jump or seem surprised in any way, and when her eyes opened slowly, they showed no signs of grogginess or recent sleep. So maybe she hadn't been sleeping…

She had been to his apartment once or twice, though never alone with him, and Faith made no comment as she got out of Xander's car, following him up the stairs to his front door. With every step Xander was still trying to figure out what he should be doing, how he should treat her, and Faith in her silence made it all the more difficult for him to be able to decide.

"You should eat something," he told her finally, when they were both inside, and he gestured towards the cabinets and fridge in his kitchen. "What do you want? A sandwich, some cereal? Pop Tarts- leftover KFC-"

"I'm not hungry," she said without elaboration, and Xander turned to face her.

"Faith, you need to eat something, and drink some water too. Believe me, I've done a few of the drunken mornings myself. And anyway-" he hesitated, his eyes falling quickly to her smaller frame, particularly the breasts that didn't look quite as generous as they had two weeks ago. He decided it might be best to avoid THAT sort of discussion. "You need to eat something."

"I'm not hungry," Faith repeated, and that was the end of it. Xander could tell he would get no further with that for the moment, when she was almost swaying on her feet from weariness…maybe later. No, definitely later, somehow he would have to get he to eat later.

"Okay…but if you change your mind, mi kitchen es su kitchen, okay?"

Faith shrugged, and he watched her as she leaned back against the wall, her eyes once more drifting away from him. He took a step toward her, lowering his voice.

"Faith? Why don't you lay down for a while, get some sleep?"

She didn't answer for a while, and when she did, her words were totally inaudible. But she made her way towards his couch, stretching out slowly, and Xander stayed a slight distance away, trying again.

"You can have my bed if you…it's probably-"

"No," she cut him off, not loudly or aggressively, but flatly, leaving no room for him to argue further.

She curled her legs so her entire form would fit and closed her eyes, seeming to want to block him out, for him to go away. Xander watched her with a slight frown, somewhat uneasy. On one hand it was totally and completely weird to think of Faith, THIS Faith, in his bed, even without him in it… and as long ago as that had been, and as much as both of them had grown and changed since- he hoped, anyway- it still made him feel tense and awkward to think of Faith in his bedroom, in his bed. And yet to put her on the couch, even at her insistence…

Xander let it go, however, and went to the closet in his bedroom to retrieve a blanket and pillow for her. When he returned to the living room area and covered her balled-up form on the couch with the blanket, however, Faith's eyes opened slowly, and she stared at him, bleary confusion and hurt in her eyes so prevalent in that moment that he swallowed, unable to look away.

"I just got you a pillow," he said finally, holding it out for her to take from him, "and I thought you might be cold…"

She didn't take the pillow; she barely moved at all, barely seemed able to lift her head from the couch. She continued to stare at him, her eyes dark, yet glinting in a way that revealed her intense emotional turmoil clearly. Xander tried to think of what to say, what he could do, but she spoke before he could make any further gestures, her voice low, raspy, and uneven.

"Why…why are you doing this?"

Xander knew what she was saying, what she was thinking… he could see the depths of her self-loathing written plainly in her eyes, in the bewilderment coloring her voice. That someone would care for her, take care of her… that someone would even want to, when she thought herself to be so unworthy of it, must cause her even more pain than she had already been experiencing. And that this someone had to be him, of all people, when he more than most should hold all her past crimes against her, refuse her help or care because of them…

He didn't understand it himself, other than she was a human being in pain… and god, did he understand pain, the terrible desperation and despair it could drive a person to feel. He couldn't look at someone hurting, as Faith so obviously was, and not want to do what he could to help them.

And even more so than that…it was Faith. History aside, he had seen her this past year, seen how hard she was working to redeem herself, to not earn forgiveness, but rather an acknowledgement of her repentance, and respect for her growth. Although he could not say he knew her well, for Faith still would not open herself to him or to anyone else enough for them to be able to say that, he trusted her… and he cared for her. He doubted she knew that… and maybe now was the time for her to hear it.

"Because you need it, Faith," he said softly, keeping his eyes on hers, watching her reaction. "And because you're worth it."

She stiffened, the disbelief in her eyes accentuated by a sudden intensity of their surface shimmer, a shimmer that looked to Xander suspiciously like tears. She turned herself over jerkily, lying with her back facing him so he could not see her face. But he heard her take a slow breath and release it, even as she did not respond to his words.

He backed away, giving her space, but remained in the room, watching Faith from a careful distance. He wanted her to know that he was near. Whether this would give her comfort or reassurance in some way, Xander didn't know, but he knew it made him feel vaguely better to stay near her.

As her breathing began to even out and she drifted off to sleep, Xander remained seated, thinking, planning, or attempting to. He knew he should call Giles or Willow, or even Dawn, let them know what was going on. Faith needed to be watched, no matter how difficult that might be once she was sober. She couldn't be allowed to continue as she had been, but how could he stop it if she didn't want to? How could anyone?

But for now Xander simply watched Faith sleep, and he tried to think where to go from there.

Xander never did call anyone to tell them about Faith. He didn't know what he would have said, or what they might have wanted to do in their knowledge of her presence. He wasn't sure, still, what he himself wanted to do. So he simply watched her drift into sleep for several minutes, not sure what it was that compelled him to do so, but finding himself not quite able to move away for the time being. Even in sleep there was little, if any, peace in Faith's expression or bodily muscles. Xander couldn't see how she could be obtaining any true rest, but he hoped for her sake that she was able to do so.

After some time had passed he stood, trying to be quiet as he went about his business in his apartment. His sink was overflowing and Xander began to load the dishes into the dishwasher, knowing if Faith were to spend any time in his place where she wasn't unconscious or sleeping, and if she were to start feeling a little more normal, then many, many dishes would have to be used to accommodate her appetite.

Once this was accomplished Xander went to his bedroom and bathroom, looking around quickly and trying to make sure that it looked okay, should she go into either. Not that he really knew why he thought Faith would care. Based upon the state of her motel room, cleanliness or even minimal sanitation hadn't concerned her for some time now. Still, the idea of her seeing his dirty boxers or a certain kind of magazine, or anything like that…well, he might have seen the same kind of thing in Faith's place, but Xander wasn't exactly a tit for tat kind of guy. Well, not in this instance anyway…and not THAT kind of tit…

Okay, stopping, stopping now. Where the hell did that come from? Other than an admirably persistent obsession with sex that persevered through all circumstances, under all conditions, of course…that could, of course, be the culprit.

Xander had finished straightening up his bathroom and was scanning his bedroom, putting away the pile of clothes that had accumulated on his floor, when he heard a sound that made him jerk with shock and alarm, his face stiffening, hands stilling in place. Someone was screaming, shrieking in a high pitched, anguished tone that caused his heart to squeeze hard in reaction to it. Faith…it was Faith screaming, Faith was…

Xander threw the door to his bedroom open and dashed into the living room as quickly as he could, knocking his elbow hard in the doorway in his haste. His heart knocking heavily in his chest, his stomach clinching, he looked her over hurriedly, assessing the situation, but Faith continued to scream, her horrified outcry punctuated by words of desperation.

"Noooo! No, no, no, no, no! Get the fuck out of her, noooo! Oh god, no, no, no…"

She was still asleep, or so it appeared to Xander. She was still on the couch, though both her blanket and her pillow had been tossed to the floor, and she herself was in danger of joining them with her violent thrashings. Faith's eyes were tightly shut, but tears managed to stream under them, and even still asleep she was sobbing, her voice breaking as she struck out wildly.

"No, no, oh no, god, no, NO-"

"Faith!" Xander called out to her, but he didn't try to touch her, didn't raise his voice very loudly. There was no telling what she would do if he scared or startled her too badly while she was in this state, whether she was awake or not. All Xander knew was as much as he wanted to wake her up from this obviously horrible dream, he wasn't getting anywhere near her at the moment, not the way she was kicking and punching out at things.

"Faith…Faith, it's okay. Faith? Faith!"

After what seemed an anxiously long time for Xander, but what was in reality probably less than thirty seconds, Faith bolted up, screaming again, her voice raw and incredibly loud. Her eyes opened wide, wild, the terror and grief she was feeling starkly obvious in their surface. Her entire body was shaking, almost spasming, her breath coming in ragged tears, and tears streamed unchecked down her face, even as she seemed unaware of her surroundings. As Xander stared at her, alarmed, astonished by the violence of her reaction, he didn't even want to think about what she might have been dreaming to so upset her.

"Faith," he repeated carefully, softly, coming closer to her, crouching beside her. She wasn't lashing out at the air anymore, looked too shaken to be likely to do so, and he debated whether to touch her, pausing. It was certainly what she needed, but he couldn't yet predict how she would react.

"Faith…Faith, it's okay now," he repeated gently, and she turned her head, jerking it as though still not able to determine where she was, or who he was. She seemed to be partly remaining in her dream, unable yet to detach herself fully from it, though her eyes were clearing slowly. "You're awake…it's me. Xander. You're at my place, remember? It's okay."

She stared at him, her eyes darkening, the emotion still heavily present, but not quite as overwhelming as before. Tears had dried up, but she was still shivering slightly…however, she was gathering herself, taking deliberate breaths. Xander swallowed, somewhat relieved, but he was still very concerned, feeling her pain as though it were his own, just by watching her. And wasn't it? Didn't he know the same anguish, even if he could never have shown it so strongly…at least some small piece of her agony, didn't he feel it too?

She was still looking at him without speaking as her shoulders tensed further, her jaw tightening, not speaking to him…and that was when he made his mistake. Xander reached for her, squeezing her shoulder as he spoke to her again.

"Faith…do you want to talk about it? Or do you-"

"BACK THE FUCK OFF OF ME!" she yelled, the anger and loudness of her voice startling Xander so much that he froze, unable to pull his hand away. Jerking herself out from under his grasp, Faith shoved him out of the way roughly, nearly leaping to her feet and running toward the front door. Xander gawked, astonished, before hastening to his feet as well.

"Faith- Faith, wait! Faith-"

"I don't need your fucking pity, Xander, so just leave me the fuck alone!" she shouted, and hardly half a second had passed before she was gone, the door slammed behind her, leaving Xander standing in shock…but she hadn't left too fast for him to miss the tears still making their way down her cheeks, in spite of herself.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I don't wanna be the girl who has to fill the silence  
The quiet scares me 'cause it screams the truth  
Please don't tell me that we had that conversation  
I won't remember, save your breath, 'cos what's the use?

Ah, the night is calling?  
And it whispers to me softly come and play  
Ah, I am falling  
And If I let myself go I'm the only one to blame

"Sober," Pink

For a few seconds Xander didn't know what he should do. His first instinct was to run after Faith, to make sure she would be okay. When she was that upset, probably still disoriented from whatever terrible dream she'd been having, and maybe still hung over, certainly not rested or fed, there was no telling what could happen to her…or what she might do. Even in the best of times Faith could be unpredictable, and under these circumstances… well, whatever Faith wanted and however defensively she had responded to his attempt to be nice to her, Xander didn't feel that he should just let her go off. Whatever Faith herself might think, she didn't need to be alone right now…that much was obvious to him.

Xander didn't know what he should say or do, if he found her… he hoped that Faith hadn't already gotten too far ahead, that if he did find her, he would be able to keep up with her for long enough to get her to actually listen to him. He wanted her to come back home with him, to eat something, rest, at least take a day to recover from what had obviously been rough living for the past two weeks. But he doubted Faith would go for that… if she didn't outright refuse, she would see it as pity. And it was…but it was caring too, and much more predominantly. But how could he say that to her?

Xander was afraid that she was too stubborn, too angry and intent on her own destruction to even look at him, but he had to try. And it was becoming clear to him that in his attempt to try to help Faith, he was going to have to try alone. No calling Giles or anyone else for help… that would clearly only make her run all the faster, make Faith feel cornered, if just his presence could so threaten her. No, he was going to have to do this alone. And the sooner he found her, the better.

He checked the closest few bars first, driving his car, he figured that Faith, being on foot, wouldn't be able to overtake him quite as easily that way. He had thought that since she had so clearly been obtaining mass quantities of alcohol, judging from the state of her motel room, that a place with more alcohol would the first place she'd go. But in the first two places he couldn't find her, and he wasn't sure that she would have been able to get much further on foot. Of course, she could have been hitching…but still, Xander didn't think she was in a bar or club.

His next thought was a cemetery, but the closest one was the where Buffy was buried… one he had seen quite enough of at her funeral. Not only did he not want to set foot in there, but he also doubted that Faith, if she knew about it, would either.

Xander simply began to cruise, keeping a look out for any sight of Faith on the street. After about ten minutes he caught sight of a blur of movement in an alley, a flash of long dark hair, and suspected he had finally hit paydirt. Parking quickly, he got out of his car and headed her way as quickly as he could, first taking time, however, to grab two stakes and a knife from under his seat.

He could hear the sounds of blows and a kicked over trash can rolling before he could see any of what was going on, and as he hurried up upon the scene, Xander noticed that the only voice he could hear was the voice of whatever Faith was fighting. There were no screams or terrified outbursts from a civilian, no loud grunts, triumphant whoops, or loud taunts from the dark-haired Slayer as she fought him. In fact…it seemed as though whatever Faith was facing off with- a vampire, from the sounds of it- it was taunting her.

"THIS is how a Slayer fights? THIS is what we're all supposed to be so afraid of? Wow, and I thought this might be a challenge or something… I bet bungee jumping would be a bigger thrill than THIS…is that really the best you've got, SLAYER?"

His words were followed up by the sound of several more loud blows, and when Xander could hear no reply from Faith, still, his heart thudded loudly. Was she hurt- was the bastard hurting her? What if he was killing her, what if she… and she'd been so upset, and she could be-

Xander burst into the alley, not bothering to be stealthy or subtle about it, his eyes darting about as he hurriedly took in the scenario before him. There was indeed a vampire present, one currently engaged in heavy combat with Faith, with such intensity now that he either entirely ignored or else didn't' even notice Xander's entrance. Faith was fighting back, beating at him with her fists, knocking herself against him… but what struck Xander was the way that she was fighting back. Her movements were much slower, much more sluggish and half-hearted than usual… even across the alley Xander could tell she was barely trying, certainly not putting every bit of her energy and enthusiasm into, as he was used to observing. However upset she was, however tired or hungover, Xander would have thought that given Faith and her usual mode of dealing, she would have only been driven to try harder, if only to disprove her own weakness. And that could only mean that she wasn't trying right now…that she was deliberately not fighting back hard, deliberately letting the vampire hurt her… maybe even kill her…

As Xander watched in disbelief, Faith broadcasted her every move and intention to the vampire, giving him more than enough time to protect himself and hurt her back, without bothering to block of or defend against his hitting her. And when he finally grabbed hold of her, slamming her against the wall and holding her there by her shoulders, Faith stopped struggling and simply waited, a complex mixing of relief and challenge mingling in her dark eyes… a look that almost ordered (dared?) the vampire to go on with it.

Xander couldn't stand to watch another second of it. Almost dashing up to them, stake in hand, he slammed it hard into the vampire's back, hard enough to pierce through his heart and send his ashes scattering so that Faith choked, coughing. She was bleeding from the lip and forehead and staggered slightly, catching herself on the wall as she stared at Xander, her eyes filled with surprise… and with what looked to him like disappointment.

"Hey…what the hell are you doing here, Xander, I had it covered. You didn't have to go and-"

"Go and save your ass from being drained more bloodless than a three thousand year old mummy?" Xander interrupted, his tone louder, more aggressive than he had intended, but he couldn't control himself. Looking at Faith, still seeing the clear lack of regard for herself and what had almost happened to her in her expression, hearing the denial and stubbornness in her tone, overrode his worry for her and kicked him straight into anger mode.

Standing close to Faith, not trying to touch her yet, but also not backing up to let her move away from the wall, Xander's eyes bore into hers incredulously as he continued to sputter his frustration with her actions.

"Faith, how the hell could you let yourself be like that?! How could you just let it pummel you like that, let it have you where you couldn't-"

"Chill the hell out," Faith snapped, her eyes narrowing, and though she didn't push Xander away, didn't even make an attempt to move yet, Xander could see her body tense, could see the edginess in her expression increase noticeably. "Didn't let it do nothing, X, everyone has an off day-"

"Off day? Bullshit, Faith- bullshit did you not let him do that to you!" Xander cut her off, his voice tight, insistent, his eyes bearing into hers. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her, force her to look at him, force some sense into her…but he knew even in his anger that this wouldn't be a good plan. He made his hands stay in fists by his sides, made himself speak with a level of control to her.

"Faith, I could see perfectly clearly that you weren't trying. You were leaving yourself wide open and unprotected, and Andrew would have been less obvious about what moves he was planning than you were. You didn't even have a stake, or any weapon at all, even a makeshift one. You were letting him hurt you, and you LET him throw you against the wall!"

"Back OFF, Xander," Faith repeated through gritted teeth, more insistently now even than the first time, her eyes flashing; still she made no effort to move. "I didn't let him do shit. Now leave me alone, leave me-"

"Leave you alone, Faith, is that what you want?" Xander shot back, his voice rising, and he gestured with his hands for emphasis with his frustration. "Just leave you alone, let you go- so you can go off and let another one beat you around? So you can go get yourself killed- like Buffy? Is this all about Buffy too, Faith? Well newsflash, Faith, killing yourself isn't going to bring her back! Nothing you ever do is ever going to bring her back, because she's DEAD!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Xander wished he could take them back. That had been a stupid, STUPID thing to say…but it was too late. He saw the way Faith's face froze, the way her eyes bulged, shock and intense pain searing across their surface. He heard the choked noise she made in her throat, saw her already-pale face drain even further of color…and he nearly fell to the ground as she abruptly and aggressively shoved past him, fleeing from the alley.

As Xander stared after her, his heart pounded, and his stomach twisted so sharply he felt nauseous. Stupid, stupid, how the hell could he have been so stupid…and what could he do now? More importantly…what would Faith do now?

* * *

Xander's first instinct, after his initial shock at his own stupidity, which rendered him temporarily unable to remember how to move, was to go after Faith…again. Obviously she was upset- HE had upset her, and he needed to apologize, to track her down again, to make sure she'd be okay, that she would not do something stupid and reckless to herself in her emotional state of being. He doubted that was going to be a wish that got fulfilled, after what he had witnessed occurring between Faith and the vampire. She didn't care what happened to her now, would maybe even do something to actively cause harm to herself- and so however much she hated him now, and however she might protest, he needed to find her again.

As Xander hurriedly made his way back to his car he was still berating himself, astonished at his own idiocy. To have SAID that, and to say it to Faith, of all people, who was less than stable and predictable even before now at times..of course she had taken off. Even if he found her, he dreaded to think that it might not be enough. What if she wouldn't listen, wouldn't let him help her… and of course she wouldn't. She was Faith, she hadn't even trusted him before he hurt her as he had. Even as he pulled out of the parking lot Xander knew how badly he had screwed up. He doubted there was anything he could do to make it better… what could he possibly say, and how could he stop Faith if her rage or grief drove her to violence, whether against him, herself, or others?

The answer, Xander suspected, was nothing. But he drove anyway, looking for Faith much more than he did at the road, praying to catch sight of her, as he had passing the alley. He stopped off at every bar he came across and quickly searched for her in their interiors, scanning the faces at the counters and the bodies on the dance floor. None of them were ever Faith. It seemed her pure adrenaline and emotion had managed to take her farther than Xander's car could carry him, or else she was somewhere he wouldn't have expected her to go. Or maybe she had seen him or sensed him coming into one of the bars and had ducked into the bathroom- Xander could only guess. All he knew for sure was that he couldn't find Faith, had no idea what she was up to or whether she was okay. She could have hitchhiked, or stowed away in a truck or train, as she had been known to do in the past. There was no way for him to know, and it looked like his efforts would be entirely useless in finding her. Clearly Faith didn't want to be found.

After several hours it was growing late, and Xander was forced to give up his efforts. He drove home even more disgusted with himself than before, worry for Faith and her safety- not to mention the safety of others- clouding his thoughts heavily. If something were to happen to her… if she did something to herself, or let something happen to her… Xander wouldn't be able to keep from blaming himself, from putting the fault on his own shoulders. If he had just stopped and thought for two seconds…

Faith had probably left town by now, if she was well enough to leave, or do anything at all. He might never see her again, never find out what had happened to her…never be able to…

His thoughts continued, persisting all the way back to his home, and as he stepped inside the front door, Xander knew he would find himself unable to sleep that night.

A couple of hours passed with his worries continuing; Xander could not relax, and he did not attempt to. Sitting on the couch, a barely sipped cup of coffee in his hands, he stared at the TV screen before him but scarcely noticed its images and sounds. He could not shake the dread, the fear, that he had destroyed someone's life, and he would not even know it. Maybe he should have looked longer, more thoroughly. Maybe he should call Giles or Willow after all. Maybe Willow could have done a locator spell. Maybe if he had quickly found-

His thoughts were broken up by the ringing of his doorbell, and Xander jumped, startled. Given the hour, he had good reason to be, for in order for someone to bother him at this time of the night, either something was very wrong, or else…well, actually that was pretty much the only reason he could think of.

"I'm coming, just a minute," he called out, but if the person heard, they ignored him, pressing the doorbell three more times impatiently, in rapid succession. Xander's stomach tightened nervously…what was going on? Who was out there?

He hesitated, then took time to gather a sword and stake before going to the door, peeking out through the peephole. When he saw the slim dark form on the other side, swaying slightly on her feet, Xander caught his breath in shock. Faith…it was Faith there, Faith…

He set the sword and stake down with a clatter and hastened to open the door for her, to step out beside her, all the while scanning her quickly in disbelief.

"Faith! Faith, what are you doing here… I thought you were…"

"Hey Xan man," she greeted him, and her voice was slurred, the syllables thick, her eyes bleary. As soon as he stepped closer to her the strong scent of alcohol, cigarettes, and what Xander suspected was a recent sexual encounter filled his nostrils. He tried to keep from coughing or instinctively holding his breath. "Glad to see me?"

She was still unsteady on her feet, her eyes slitted half shut; her pants were sagging on her hips, her shirt on inside out, and her hair was wildly tangled at the ends, what looked like blood dried on her lips and in some strands of hair. Faith appeared to have been in a recent fight, or maybe that was from the sex too. There was a long cut slanted towards her temple, her lip was crusting over, and her right eye was bruised; she was holding herself with a level of pain. Noticing that Xander was watching her, her lips twisted into a very slight smirk.

"Don't gotta stare, Xan… know you want me. So gonna do you a favor and stay…right here…night.."

With that her legs buckled, and she passed out, falling before his doorstep so hard, fast, and suddenly that Xander could barely move enough to even partly break her fall. Grabbing her under her arms, trying to hold her up not yet sure if he should lay her down or pick her up, Xander stared down at her, his mind still whirling with shock.

Well…looks like he found her after all.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

You think that I can't see right through your eyes  
Scared to death to face reality  
No one seems to hear your hidden cries  
You're left to face yourself alone

_[Chorus:]_  
But where will you go (where will you go)  
With no one left to save you from yourself  
You can't escape  
The truth  
I realize you're afraid (I realize)  
But you can't abandon everyone  
You can't escape  
You don't want to escape

"Where will you go," Evanescence

For a few moments Xander wasn't sure what to do, or rather, he couldn't get his knowledge of what he should do to cooperate with his limbs. He looked down at the unconscious Slayer, hanging limply from his sagging grasp, and knew he should get her inside. But it seemed that actually making movements to do so was going to be a slightly more difficult concept. For one thing, he wanted to be sure not to awaken her at this point- one thing he definitely didn't want was to be on the receiving end of a semi-conscious but still strong Faith's fists. And he also didn't want to hurt her… he wasn't sure just how badly she was injured, and he didn't want to make it any worse by handling her too clumsily. And then there was the fact that Faith being here at all, of her own free will, however alcohol-influenced that might be, was still stunning him.

After the first several seconds of simply gawking down at her, however, Xander was ready to move along with what needed to be done. Adjusting his hold of Faith, he lifted her as carefully yet quickly as he could into his arms, backing into his doorway with her legs and one arm dangling. Faith did not stir, though he saw her eyes move slightly beneath her eyelids. Though she was deadweight in his grasp, solid, she was neither heavy nor hard to hold onto, and Xander pulled the door shut behind him hurriedly before carrying her into his living room.

Laying her out carefully on his couch, feeling a strange prickle of de ja vu as he looked down at her supine form, Xander gently set her dangling hand on her chest, tearing his eyes quickly away from watching it rise and fall with each exhalation and inhalation of her breaths. He took the pillow Faith had flung to the floor in her haste to leave earlier that day and propped it under her head before looking her over more carefully, assessing the damage caused by her injuries.

It didn't look really serious, when looking at each wound individually; it was just when one looked collectively that might provoke a wince. Remembering the slightly strained way she had held herself at the door, Xander gulped, his eyes quickly sliding to her face, and then gently eased her shirt up so he could examine her stomach and ribs. He was careful to only push the shirt up to just under her breasts- he didn't want to go /there/ right now.

The surface of Faith's torso was riddled with several large, nasty-looking bruises, and there was a scrape up her side that had bled earlier but was healing over now. Other than that, though, nothing appeared to be badly damaged, and when Xander quickly skimmed a hand over her ribs, his eyes skipping up again to watch her face, he was relieved to see that nothing was broken, though the bruising indicated that they most likely were very sore. Xander pushed her shirt down again to cover her and went into his bathroom, returning with one of the several first aid kits he had learned to keep handy over the past several years.

Kneeling once more beside Faith on the couch, he set to work cleaning the blood off her face from the bloodied nose, split lip, cut on her temple, and caught in her bangs. He didn't try to disinfect or do more than very slowly and gently wipe the blood with a warm washcloth- again he wasn't eager to be the cause of waking a disoriented Faith and her fists. Through his attentions to her Faith never moved, seemed totally unaware of Xander's presence. Even when Xander had finished and simply sat there, watching her, Faith remained still and quiet in her unconscious state, the only noise she uttered the sound of her breaths.

So she had returned…why she had decided to do so, Xander didn't know, and he suspected he didn't want to know the specifics of what she had been doing before this point either. But she had returned… she was here now, and that was all that mattered. For right now, Xander knew she was safe, could watch her…take care of her. He could do something to make up for the ignorance of what he had said to her before…that is, if she wasn't gone in the morning, when he checked in on her again.

He hoped she wouldn't be… he hoped that she would stay, that he could find a way to make her want to stay. Because right now, whatever Faith thought, she had nowhere else to go…and she needed him. And somehow, Xander felt that he needed her too…he needed to care for someone again. To care for her, if she would let him.

Xander ended up sleeping opposite Faith in his recliner, not comfortable with leaving her alone the whole night. He thought she might manage to wake up and sneak off without him realizing in the morning if he didn't, or maybe she would need him in some other way. He doubted she had a concussion- he had checked her pulse and reflexes quickly, and they had seemed normal. But still, he felt like he should remain on hand, should she need him at some point.

About an hour after he had settled her on the couch, just when Xander had been on the edge of drifting off, he heard Faith moving slightly, shifting her body, heard her say something foggily under her breath. Pushing himself into greater alertness, blinking his eyes in an attempt to fight off impending sleep, Xander sat up, looking over at her on the couch where she had now partly sat up.

Faith's eyes were slitted, but open, and her mouth was hanging open slightly as well as she blinked back at Xander, seeming totally confused as to her surroundings. He couldn't blame her for that; the room was dimly lit, and since she had showed up at his place in a rather wasted mindset, he wouldn't be surprised if she didn't remember where she was or how she had gotten to be there.

"What the…where…" she muttered, her voice fuzzy, thick, and she lifted her head slowly, as though it were heavier than normal.

Xander kept his voice soft as he replied, not sure if she recognized him at the moment either, and stifled a yawn. It had been a long, long night, and it didn't look like it was over yet.

"You're at my place, Faith…it's me, Xander. You were drunk… so you're here for the night right now, okay?"

She continued to stare at him, showing no signs of comprehension, and Xander wondered if her brain was working cohesively enough to piece together the meaning of what he was saying.

"Didn't think you'd wanna go at it again after the last time, Xan-man," she mumbled finally in response, her eyes drifting shut again even as she spoke slowly. "Glutton for punishment…always thought so…"

As soon as the words had left her mouth her eyes closed completely, and she went still and quiet again, other than the slow, just-audible sound of her breathing. It looked to Xander as though she were not unconscious this time, but rather asleep. He hoped so. God knows Faith needed the rest that sleep might provide her with.

He checked her pulse again sleepily and thought she looked about as comfortable and okay as possible, considering. Climbing back into the recliner and resuming his curled-up position to sleep, Xander's last weary thought was that he was glad it was Friday, so he would not be expected back at work tomorrow.

* * *

Several hours later, Xander was jolted out of a deep sleep by the sound of shrill, shrieking screams- frantic, loud, and very, very close by. He jerked, his body spasming in instinctive panicked response to them, and nearly rolled out of the recliner as he struggled to a sitting position, eyes darting, heart immediately knocking in his chest. The screams continued, just noise at first, then punctuated by loud verbal outcries as well.

"Noooo! Noooo, no, no! No, no, get the fuck away, oh god, no, no, no, NO!"

Within fifteen seconds Xander understood where the noises were coming from and what was going on, though the cognition of what he should do about it took a little longer to catch on. Faith…obviously Faith was caught in a nightmare just as awful to her as the one she had experienced in his presence before. Xander froze, his heart in his throat as he continued to cry out, her voice raw.

"Oh god no…no, no, no, no, no, NO.."

He hated to hear her, to witness her pain, to watch her kicking out at the air, to see the tears streaming down her cheeks, the sobs breaking her voice… but he didn't know what to do. What was it she was seeing that so tormented her… what disturbed Faith so badly that she was reduced to this childlike, quivering state so unlike the Faith he knew? Or at least the Faith he had known…

Xander felt a strong urge to go to Faith, to take hold of her and embrace her, to try to stop her frantic movements, calm her screams…but he knew better than to try that now, after their exchange the last time. Was this something that happened to Faith all the time now…did she have this happen every time she slept?

Xander's jaw set just at the thought of it, and he exhaled, considering it. If that were true, it was no wonder Faith hadn't been sleeping…how could she want to? Maybe that was even part of the reason she drank, part of the reason she seemed so broken down too. To have dreams so clearly exhausting and terrible to experience, every time you tried to sleep… how could it not start to wear on you, not start to break you down?

He spoke softly but intensely, hoping that somehow Faith would hear him, and recognize his voice, recognize the concern for her behind it.

"Faith," he said against the sound of her screaming, leaning towards her, but not daring to get too close, not daring to touch her. "Faith, wake up. Faith…come on, Faith, wake up…"

He didn't think it was neither his voice nor his presence that woke her, but simply that the nightmare had gone through its course. As she had before, Faith bolted up, a choked gasp escaping her, shoulders shaking visibly, tears still leaking from wide open eyes. Xander didn't speak, didn't move, his eyes on her…but when understanding came to Faith's eyes, and she seemed to finally grasp her situation, her eye hardened, the pain and confusion in their surfaces quickly shifting into anger. She glared at Xander so fiercely that he almost did a double take, stunned by the sudden transformation.

"What the hell are you staring at me for?" she almost snarled, her shoulders drawing up sharply. She was sitting up now, her back rigid, and she continued aggressively. "What the hell are you DOING here?"

"Uh…I live here," Xander pointed out quietly, attempting to give her a slightly teasing smile. Faith did not return it; if anything her scowl intensified. She looked so pissed off at the moment that he was afraid she would explode into violence… where in the world had all the screams and tears from just a minute ago gone off to? How could she switch them off and on so hurriedly?

She continued to glare at him for a few more moments, seeming to be taking the time for his words to sink in even as she would not allow anything but anger to show itself on her face. He could almost see the thoughts racing behind her narrowed eyes as Faith struggled to remember, to make sense of her circumstances, but he couldn't tell just how much she was able to recall accurately. She made it impossible for anyone to tell, with her expression and aggressive posture. If Xander didn't know her, he would have thought looking at her that Faith was preparing to attack him…and as it was, he couldn't entirely convince himself that it wasn't' a possibility.

With a loud string of curses Faith suddenly scrambled to her feet, with such little notice given that Xander jumped back, convinced at first that she was going to try to attack him after all. His next thought when she lit past him, not even coming near his personal space, was that she would once more head straight out the door- another option Xander wanted to avoid taking place. But Faith did neither. Instead, she took a sharp turn towards the doorway to his room, opening it and then slamming the door loudly behind her, with enough force that Xander cringed, convinced he could feel the floor vibrating. A couple of seconds later he heard a second door slam as well and knew that Faith had probably locked herself into his bathroom, which was attached to his bedroom.

Xander turned his head slowly, regarding the closed bedroom door with bewilderment, wondering if Faith had locked it too. However he looked at it, he couldn't comprehend what he just happened. And what was he supposed to do this time?


	6. Chapter 6

Cross my heart, hope to die

Chapter 6

You've gone away, you don't feel me anymore

The worst is over now and we can breathe again  
I wanna hold you high, you steal my pain away  
There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight  
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain

'Cause I'm broken when I'm open  
And I don't feel like I am strong enough  
'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome  
And I don't feel right when you're gone away

"Broken," Seether featuring Amy Lee

After a few minutes of total, eerie silence, at least to Xander's non-Slayer hearing, he had been worried. What was Faith doing in his bathroom? Just sitting there? Looking at herself in the mirror? Swearing under her breath at him, at herself? Crying where he wouldn't see her? Had she fallen asleep? Or was she letting her emotion, particularly her rage, build up inside her silently until she exploded into some violent course of action, whether to herself or others?

With that thought, Xander had really started to worry. He had cleaned up his room and bathroom a little, sure…but it hadn't even occurred to him to clear them out of things that could be destructive, or used as weapons. He had weapons in his closet, under his bed… he had pills and cleaners under his sink, and in his medicine cabinet that Faith could use to overdose on. And his razors… what was Faith doing in there that she was being so quiet for?

He had wanted to go break in on her, had been moving to do so when he heard her turn the shower on. This relieved him briefly. She did need a shower, so maybe she was okay for the moment.

Nevertheless he knocked on his bedroom door, asking if she was okay; when Faith screamed back at him to fuck off, Xander took that as an indication that she was. Leaving her to shower or whatever she was doing, in peace, he looked around his kitchen once more, pulling out items to make a hasty brunch for both, if she would eat it.

Xander had set all the cereal and Pop Tart boxes he had, along with bread, peanut butter, jelly, and donuts, and eaten his own meal, plus allowed fifteen minutes past that, and still he could hear his shower running. The hot water had to be gone by now, no way could the water have been pleasant or relaxing to stand in, but still it ran, still Faith presumably remained in it. Or so she appeared to be at any rate. And then it occurred to Xander to worry about that. What if she wasn't? What if she had turned on the shower just to fake him out and had really snuck out the window or something? Okay, his bathroom didn't have a window, maybe that was out. But his bedroom did- even though it was small and three stories off the ground, that would be no problem for a Slayer to jump out of. Or she could have taken pills, slashed her wrists…she could have even fallen asleep in the bathtub and drowned herself. The more he thought about it, the more worried Xander grew, until he stood abruptly, fishing a credit card out of his wallet and preparing to unlock both doors with it to get to her, if necessary.

He was beginning to unlock his bedroom door when he heard the shower turn off suddenly, and Xander froze, quickly backing away. So obviously Faith was still there, and still okay enough to turn off a shower anyway. Soooo probably best if she didn't realize he had been about to break in on her.

Xander returned to the kitchen area, pretending engrossment in reading the back of a cereal box, all the while waiting for Faith to re-emerge. It was another ten minutes or so before his bedroom door flung open, and Faith stepped out of it, dressed in the same ripped and grass-stained clothes she had been wearing earlier.

She appeared to be totally sober and alert now, judging from her movements and facial expression, and also totally recovered from the blank dependency and despondence she had so clearly displayed to Xander earlier. Her hair was damp, and it appeared that she had merely ran her fingers through it rather than brushed it, but it did seem as if she had finally washed it. Her face was set grimly, her eyes hard, guarded, and she didn't' so much as glance at Xander in his kitchen as she strode past him, heading straight for his front door.

Xander blinked, startled, but recovered quickly, getting to his feet and calling out to her. "Faith- hey, wait, Faith! Where are you going?"

"Away," she said shortly, reaching the door and grasping its handle, and Xander hurried to catch up to her, stopping just behind her and hesitating a second before taking hold of her arm. He thought at the way her eyes flashed dangerously that she would either deck him or shove him across the room, but instead she simply stiffened, her hand tightening around the doorknob to the point where it was on the verge of snapping off.

"Away? Faith… I don't think you should be alone right now," he tried, keeping his hand lightly resting on her arm. "I think we should talk, Faith."

"There's nothing to talk about," she snapped, her voice taut, but Xander persisted doggedly, hoping he would get through.

"No…no, Faith, I think there's plenty we need to talk about. Where you're going, what you're doing…what you've been doing-"

"NO," Faith ground out, even more insistently than before, and her eyes bore into his with such ferocity that Xander stopped, swallowing. "NO, Xander, there is not."

She turned her head toward the door again, as though preparing to leave, but Xander, steeling himself, didn't let go of her arm, didn't' let her leave, and he spoke up again, his voice quiet but intent.

"Faith…look, Faith, we-"

She spun around, fully facing him for the first time, and yanked her arm out of his grasp so harshly that it flew backward before he could control it. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyebrows slanted toward her nose, and Faith put her face so near to his that Xander felt some of her spittle land on his cheek when she began to respond- if a word as mild as 'respond' could be applied to her reaction.

"BACK THE FUCK OFF OF ME, XANDER!"

Xander's stomach lurched, and he knew that the hurt that flickered through him at her aggressive words and tone must have showed in his face along with the frustration he was feeling as well. He didn't say anything, didn't back up- he wasn't sure what he could have said in response to that. Seeing his expression, the rage in Faith's face faltered, just for a few moments, but her posture remained taut, her now lowered voice very in control as she spoke again, nearly through gritted teeth.

"Look, Xan… I appreciate you trying to do the hero act with me and all," she started, although her 'appreciation' was hardly visible among her strained voice and still-guarded, bristling features. "I know you think you're being a nice guy or doing me a favor or some shit like that. But listen, I'm no fuckin' damsel for you to save, I don't NEED to be saved. I don't need you or anyone else, you got that? Besides, look at you, you don't got what it takes to save a kitten from a tree, and you think you can deal with ME? Nice try, good effort, now give up and go home," she ordered, and she even patted his shoulder condescendingly before reaching again for the doorknob.

There was so much loaded into that unexpected monologue that Xander didn't even know where to begin to respond. How was he supposed to respond to that- a mixture of insults, denials, and patronizing, all which to him at least were blatantly false? Well he hoped the jab aimed at him was anyway… of course it was, now, anyway. Maybe it hadn't been in previous years, but it was now…probably.

"First off, Faith, I AM home, and all that I'm asking right now is for you to sit down and stay in it a little longer," Xander started, speaking quickly, and hurriedly touching her shoulder. It seemed to him that every time he physically touched Faith, she delayed her leaving a little longer. What that meant, if anything, he didn't know, but he would use it to his advantage if possible. He wanted to say something defensive about the way she had cut on his damsel-saving abilities, or lack thereof, but he decided now that now might not be the best time for his yellow crayon story and moved on to surer ground.

"And second off, about you not needing anyone or needing to be saved, that part about how great you're doing on your own? Didn't look like you felt that way when you were letting that ONE puny vampire bash your brains in, now, did it? Didn't look that way when you passed out on my front doorstep and had to be carried inside. In fact, not one thing you did in front of me yesterday seemed to indicate that you felt that way, Faith, so excuse me if I have to tell you that's a load of bullshit."

Xander's voice was quiet, but even, and he kept his hand lightly on Faith's shoulder, addressing her back. He felt her already-tensed muscles tighten even further under his hand and he waited, heart pounding, knowing that what he had said could not in any way go over well. But when Faith finally responded, her voice, as strained and fierce as it was, was still under very taut control, and she did not move… maybe she was afraid of what she might do if she did move, of how badly she might hurt him. Hardly a settling thought…

"Xander, get your fuckin' hand off of me," she ground out, and Xander quickly did so, even taking a step back. He wanted to break her, but he wasn't totally stupid. "Now get the fuck away from me before I rip out your voicebox and choke you with it."

Xander took three much larger steps back this time, trying to suppress a nervous gulp- but even so he couldn't stop himself from trying one more time, his voice soft.

"I think you should stay here, Faith… and I think you need to."

"What I need," Faith said roughly, turning now to glower at him for a split second, her eyes flashing, "is for you to shut the hell up and get off of my ass. You can't make me stay here, Xander, no matter how much you fuckin' try- you really think anything you could do would make me stay here?"

"No," he said quietly, holding his eyes with hers. "No, Faith, but I wish that you would want to."

Something in her eyes glittered, a rapid emotion briefly showing itself…but almost as soon as Xander had noticed it, it was gone, as she closed herself down once more. Turning jerkily, Faith almost bolted out the front door, slamming it behind her. Xander stared wearily after her, feeling as if any hopes of success had gone along with her.

* * *

Xander wanted nothing more than to follow Faith out the door, to go with her wherever it was that she was going, to prevent her from being alone. He wanted to call out to her, to talk to her some more, to make sure she would be able to handle herself today without doing something stupid and self-destructive to cope. He wanted to talk to her some more, to ask her about her dream, to tell her that she was not alone in her pain…nor should she be. He wanted to tell her that he cared, and that if the others, all the rest of Buffy's friends and family, had known what her past two weeks had been like, they would have cared too. He wanted to tell her that he wanted to understand, if she would help him… he wanted to tell her, because he suspected, like himself and the others, that she needed to hear that Buffy's death had not been her fault.

But despite what he wanted, Xander had known with Faith's slamming of his door that he should not- not then, at least. Faith had been sober and logical, able to stand and move with normal agility, and not actively or openly violent or suicidal… though the key words, of course, were 'actively and openly.' Anyone who looked at her unobjectively might think it okay to let her, as a young adult, go off on her own without much concern. And she had made it clear that she wanted neither Xander's concern nor his presence in her life.

The problem with that was that anyone who looked at Faith in that moment unobjectively would be observing her unaware of the nightmares, of her drunken behavior and suicidal tendencies of the day before. They would be unaware of the broken state Xander had found her in, of her lengthy outbreak of tears and the near catatonia she had lapsed into after. They would only see a piece of the full picture, the piece Faith allowed them to see, and that would in all reality show them nothing.

Xander felt wrong about letting Faith go, about not even trying at this point to go after her. He knew that if he did, it would probably create more problems than it would solve. She would be angry, she would not speak to him or go with him, and it might drive her to be even more determined to isolate herself. He could think of nothing to say that might affect her or change her mind. But still, he worried what might happen to her since he wasn't doing so…or what Faith might do. If she never returned…if he never saw her again…

What was he supposed to do now, after what he knew about Faith and her life now? How was he supposed to let her go off knowing that it was likely to continue in a similar vein? Could he really go back to his own life and ignore her, really just pretend he had never known?

Xander didn't think so… but at the moment he could think of a few alternatives.

He was still thinking, having barely moved from the doorway, when his phone rang, causing him to jump, startled. For a split second his heart squeezed, hopeful, and it flashed into his mind that maybe, just maybe the person on the other end of the line was Faith.

But when he hastened to pick up the receiver, saying hello, he was somewhat disappointed to hear Willow's voice.

"Xander? Hey, it's Willow."

"Oh, Will- hey," he replied, running a hand through his hair and trying to mask the disappointment he felt at hearing her voice from being audible in his tone. "Uh…how's it going?"

"It's okay," she said quietly, and he heard her sigh, slightly away from the receiver. "I just thought I'd call you, Xan…haven't heard you or seen you really in the past few days, you know?"

Xander knew from the slightly too casual way she was saying it that Willow was trying to subtly prompt him to give reasons for this. He probably should have called her or one of the others, if not to say about Faith, then at least to say he was okay. Ever since Buffy everyone had been very aware that they were not guaranteed safety, that any one of them could die- which lead to increased need to check in on everyone, to make sure they were okay. Willow had undoubtedly been worried, and probably still was now.

Thinking of this lead another question to come to his mind, a question to newly chastise himself with. If Willow, and probably Dawn and a few others, were so aware and concerned about Xander disappearing for a day or two…why had no one noticed or been concerned about Faith disappearing for nearly two weeks? Yes, she was more likely than him to run off permanently, and she wasn't one of the original Scoobies or one of Buffy's oldest friends…but she had been an ally, a co-worker, and she had been a friend, however many walls remained between them. And yet they had neither noticed nor cared… Xander had neither noticed nor cared. How had this happened?

"Oh..right," Xander said vaguely, and he could almost see Willow frowning worriedly as she spoke again.

"Xander, are you okay? I mean…obviously you're not, none of us really are anymore…but are you-"

"I'm…yes, I'm okay, Will," he tried to reassure her, realizing quickly that she was going to need some sort of explanation to be satisfied, even if vague. And he did feel a need to continue to be vague, to not yet tell her about Faith…not until he was sure there was nothing further he could do for her on his own.

"I've…I've been busy, past couple of days," he continued slowly, hoping that Willow would accept his words and let it go. "Doing some things that should have been done a long time ago… but I'm okay."

There was a pause, and Xander knew her mind was working, trying to figure out what was going on. When Willow replied her voice was careful but accepting, and Xander almost sighed in relief.

"Well, okay…uh…do you want to come over a while, if things are done? Dawnie asked about you…"

"Yeah," Xander told her, more because he didn't know what else to do with himself at the moment than anything else. "Yeah, I'll be right over."

"Xan…you know you can talk to me, right?" Willow persisted gently, her tone hesitant. "If you want to, of course."

"I know," Xander told her, and he did. But this thing with Faith, with everything over the past day or so…somehow it felt meant only for him.

Author notes: I know this is going slow, next chapter should get into some action again.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Author notes: I realize the speed is slow and the angst level is high in this…but there will in fact be a plot not related to Faith's destruction and grief eventually, and there will be changes in her behavior. Lol. Thought I might just assure you/people of that.

Stay low.  
Soft, dark, and dreamless,  
Far beneath my nightmares and loneliness.  
I hate me,  
For breathing without you.  
I don't want to feel anymore for you.

Grieving for you,  
I'm not grieving for you.  
Nothing real love can't undo,  
And though I may have lost my way,  
All paths lead straight to you.

I long to be like you,  
Lie cold in the ground like you.

"Like you," Evanescence

After Willow's phone call, Xander took a shower, shaved, ate, and prepared himself to spend some time with her, Kennedy, and Dawn- possibly Giles and some of the junior Slayers as well. Ever since they had settled the Slayers-in-training headquarters and a new Watcher's Council had been started up in Cleveland, things had been different; though really, ever since the fall of Sunnydale things had been different, if Xander thought about it. Though the new Slayers were associating with them and each other frequently, and were considered an extended family of sorts, it was distant family at best, far removed cousins or some other type of kin. It was impossible to know them all very well, or in much detail at all- it was hard enough just to remember their names. Willow, Dawn, Giles, and now Kennedy, they were Xander's real family now, even more so than his blood kin. He had a past with them, he knew and understood them, as none of the junior Slayers ever would.

He wanted that with Faith… he wanted that for Faith. For they had history too, and as bad as most of that had been, there had been good times too….times Xander couldn't forget, and didn't want to. He didn't know if Faith remembered or cared, or if they had meant anything to her at all. It was possible that they hadn't, for she had often seemed to be working hard to prove this was so… but then again, it was possible that they had meant everything to her, and it was simply her way to hide this.

Though not a word had been spoken to even hint at it from Xander's time with Faith, he was nearly entirely positive that his suspicions from before of Faith's interest in and feelings for Buffy when Buffy was alive had been right. Why else would Faith be so shattered by her death, when it had seemed to Xander and anyone else watching them work together that their relationship, odd and intense as it had been, was barely a friendship at all as one might traditionally think of friendship?

Even a year later, even after working together, training together, and seemingly having forgiven each other, Buffy's and Faith's relationship had been strange and difficult to define or describe. They had continued to behave competitively and edgily, rarely showing affection or easy approval or even enjoyment of the other's company on any obvious level. They didn't hate each other, didn't deliberately try to hurt or spite each other- often, anyway- but it had seemed apparent that the women were simply too different and headstrong to keep from often rubbing each other the wrong way, particularly in Buffy's case.

But all of Faith's grief, all of her guilt and rage and suffering…all of that couldn't' have come about simply because Buffy had been an ally, a sister Slayer, through regret or unresolved issues between them…could it? Xander doubted this… and this caused him to wonder as well whether Buffy had known, or what she might have thought or felt if she had. Was it possible that Buffy had known, that there had been something going on, whether acted upon or not, right under their noses?

Xander didn't know, and there was little point in speculating. Even had she been with him to ask, he couldn't have done so, for there was no way such a question could have gone over well. And now that he didn't' even know where Faith was or what her plans were, he couldn't find a way to get her to talk about it. It bothered him to consider this… for as he drove to Willow's house, it was becoming clear to Xander suddenly that Faith did not have a family, did not have the love and support of close friends that he and the others had. And she was so used to this, even resistant to it, that even if she were present, she would probably not allow him or anyone else to even attempt to be that for her.

But she needed it. Having been with her, seen her in the aftermath of it all, Xander knew she needed it. The problem was how he would provide it when she didn't' allow for it, without continually stalking her around the whole country… a feat that seemed impossible.

Xander spent several hours with Willow, Kennedy, and Dawn, who Willow had obtained guardianship of after Buffy's death, and responded vaguely to questions as to where he had been from Dawn and Kennedy. Dawn was willing to let it slide, but Kennedy was more persistent, and Willow eventually had to persuade her to back off. In two weeks the sharp grief of Willow and Dawn had become slightly dulled, giving way to mild numbness in Dawn and mournful aura to Xander that he hated witnessing almost as much as he had their more intense and initial emotions. Still, he stayed with them and tried not to worry about them more than was helpful- or about Faith.

This method worked reasonably well if he kept busy, not allowing his mind to wonder, but as the day turned to evening, Xander had to admit defeat. He needed to know what was going on with Faith, needed to know if he was okay…like it or not, by this point he was invested to the point of near obsession. He knew it was a long shot that he would even be able to find her, let alone do something that would help her, but he would have to try again if he wanted any peace of mind… he would have to take his chances.

He said his goodbyes to the women, promising to either see them or call them the next day, and set off, determined to cover all the areas Faith might be at, if she hadn't left town. There was a chance, however small, that she hadn't yet, and he decided to take it.

He tried the cemeteries first; after what he had witnessed between her and the vampire in the alley last night, he wouldn't be surprised if Faith would put herself in a situation like that again. When this yielded nothing but a vampire, which Xander succeeded in dusting after several minutes of struggling, he began to check alleys and back roads next, also coming up with nothing.

He tried the bars next, this time going so far as to ask females who seemed sober to check inside the bathrooms for someone of Faith's description. But again this didn't work, and Xander was afraid that Faith had indeed left town.

It occurred to him after the last bar he tried that maybe Faith had gone back to her motel room. Why she would go there made no sense really to Xander, but deciding to try, he drove there quickly, pulling into its parking lot.

He didn't find her right away. Initially he walked up to the room Faith had been renting and knocked on the door, calling her name and asking to be let in. Of course he wasn't; Xander hadn't expected a response from her even if she had been there, unless, of course, it was screams for him to leave punctuated with swear words and possibly the sounds of breaking glass. So when he knocked a few more times and earned no reply, he once again used his drivers license to break into the room. It looked exactly the same as he had left it when he stepped inside, scanning its interior- which was, of course, much cleaner than Faith had left it. A quick glance inside the bathroom only made it more clear to Xander that Fait had not been back inside the motel room since he had taken her out of it.

But still, even as he exited the room, shutting the door behind him, he felt an uneasy, restless prickling at the back of his neck, a need to keep looking. Where else Faith would be around the motel other than her room, Xander had no idea, but he went along with it, beginning to circle around the building, seeking out the area.

As he came around behind the building he saw them… they were on the far other end of the backside, just around the corner from the check-in area. There was a man and a woman, on the ground, obviously involved in some sort of sexual act. The man's back was turned towards Xander, so he couldn't see his face, but Xander could hear his panting, excited breaths even from the distance….he could see that he was straddling the woman, groping her roughly. As Xander stared, momentarily still with shock, he watched the man fondling the woman under her shirt, shoving it up to expose her breasts, then kissing her roughly, thrusting his tongue between her slackened, unresisting lips. Pausing for air, he pulled back slightly, reaching to unzip his fly…

Even from the distance Xander could tell from the unmoving woman's long dark hair and slim legs that she was Faith…and when the man pulled back from her face for a moment, he saw positively that he was right…and that Faith was barely conscious. Even if she had initiated this encounter, she certainly wasn't an active participant currently. And this man was pushing forward with it, this man was-

Rage shot through Xander so suddenly and strongly that every muscle tensed, rendered for a split second incapable of action. Had this happened with Faith before- had she let this happen to herself before? How many times- how many men had used her like this in the past few weeks? How many men had she LET use her like this? Did she even remember later, did she even realize it was wrong? Did she CARE- did she want on some level for this to happen?

All this flickered through his mind in a couple of seconds, too quickly to really look for any conclusions, but Xander was in no reflective state of mind. He ran, his eyes intent on the man straddling Faith, and slung an arm tightly around his throat, choking him, pulling him backwards off of her and onto the ground. As the man cried out, taken completely by surprise, Xander saw the plaque on his shirt naming him as Rob, the motel manager, and his fury rose even higher. Was this his way of obtaining late room payments? Or was he simply a freakin' pervert bastard with every guest he found stumbling around behind the building? The guy had a key to every motel room, he could use them whenever he wanted- what if he broke in every time he felt like it, for every attractive young woman he checked in? what if-

Xander didn't know if any of this was true, of course, and had no way of knowing so. But he knew that this Rob guy had been more than prepared to perform a sexual act with a woman who was quite clearly not in the state of mind to make such a decision. He knew the woman was Faith. And that was all he needed to know to smash his fist into Rob's face, not even feeling the pain it caused in his hand, and then to sock him in the stomach as well, causing him to double over, groaning, blood streaming over his lip.

"What the fuck?!" Rob the manager sputtered, his eyes wide, glinting with his shock, fear, and anger as he tried to pull away from Xander, tried to move away to defend himself. "What the hell- what'd you do that for, what-"

"What the hell are YOU doing THAT for?!" Xander yelled back, seizing Rob by his shoulder and shirt collar and pulling his face close as he shook him roughly, giving in to the anger still coursing through him without making much effort to control it. "Get the hell away from her, you pervert, you bastard- what the hell were you doing to her?!"

"I wasn't doing anything, she wanted it! She-" the man yelped, but Xander cut him off, his voice rising even further.

"She's drunk, she doesn't know what the hell she wants, you asshole! She can barely keep her eyes open, let alone look at you and agree to a mattress mambo- oh yeah, there is no mattress out here, just a concrete alley ground! What the hell were you thinking, do you even known her name? Did you even look at her, did you LOOK at her?!"

Another strong flash of anger shooting through his chest, Xander hit Rob again, this time squarely in the mouth. Rob yelped again, his eyes shimmering with pain and alarm, and this angered Xander too. He couldn't take getting hit by a guy his own size, even one as weak as Xander…but he DID get off on taking advantage of smaller women who were too drunk to resist or know better…of FAITH?

Xander ignored the tiny voice that told him that Faith would probably still have screwed this man if she were sober and conscious, that she would undoubtedly be furious later and pridestruck if she found out that he had defended her and her honor in such a way. Neither mattered- neither was what counted. He hit Rob again, and Rob yelled, trying to twist away from him.

"She wanted it! She was doing it, she-"

"She can't even tell you how many fingers are on one hand!" Xander snapped back, and he hit him again, aware that he was losing control, aware that his knuckles were bleeding…but only vaguely. His heart was pounding, adrenaline rushing to his head, and all he could think of was Faith, Faith lying there without speaking, without moving…

"Please, stop, please, I'm sorry," Rob was pleading, nearly crying, his words running together. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please stop…"

Xander had to force himself to stop his fist from descending again, force himself to slow his breathing, slow his thinking… and to keep his eyes turned away from Faith. If he looked back at her, he couldn't do this… and he had to do this, he had to let the guy go. But he didn't have to be nice about it.

"If you ever do anything like this again…if you ever come near her again," he said slowly, his voice low and heavy with intensity, "then you're not going to be able to try this on another woman again. I'll make sure of that."

Leaving that threat hanging over his head, he shoved Rob away from him, staring at him with narrowed eyes. Rob stumbled to his feet with a gasp, glancing at Faith furtively before taking off around the corner without another word, as if afraid Xander would chase him. Xander watched, taking deep breaths to calm himself, making sure he was gone, and then turned to regard Faith closely for the first time since he had seen her in the alley.

She still appeared to be unconscious, probably from the results of heavy drinking, once again, and Xander didn't even want to think about how she was getting the money to continually buy such vast quantities of alcohol, enough to affect a Slayer, and a Slayer with Faith's tolerance level, no less. As Xander came to kneel beside her, he didn't think that her unconscious state was the result of injuries; other than some scuffs and scrapes, she appeared physically okay. In order to fight down the anger he still felt heavily toward Rob, Xander deliberately made himself concentrate on his concern for Faith's repeated binge drinking.

Even as a Slayer, it couldn't be good for her, he knew. Even if her Slayer healing allowed for her kidney and liver to repair any damage she inflicted upon herself, she was still blacking out, which could lead to head injuries, concussions. And if she drank to the point of unconsciousness nearly every day, then that would leave her open to attack. Whether from human predators or vampires, or some other monster, it made no difference- in that kind of state, anyone could hurt or use Faith, even kill her. And even if she didn't drink until she blacked out, even if she remained conscious, her thinking and movements would still be impaired, she would still be in danger. Not to mention that the alcohol might even contribute to her making decisions to deliberately harm herself or expose herself to harm…

Faith couldn't continue to drink like she had been. But what could Xander do about it? Lock her in his room, tie her to his bed until she gave in? That wasn't such a bad thought really… stop it!

No, he obviously couldn't do that- like anything he did could keep an angry Slayer where she didn't want to be anyway. All he could do for the moment was continue to be there when she needed him, literally scraping her off the sidewalk and continuing to do whatever he had to so she would start to come around a little, maybe start to heal…and maybe start to trust him.

And maybe she did trust him, a little, even if she didn't want to admit it yet. Why else would she have not left town long ago…why else would she have showed up on his doorstep, even if she left again as soon as she was able? Maybe he was doing something right after all, even if it felt like everything he'd done for Faith so far had backfired… after all, she was still here.

Xander reached to pull Faith's shirt down first, almost as much for his own sake as for hers. As concerned as he was for her, and as angry as he was at Rob for what he had been trying to do, it still made him flush, his heartbeat quickening, to look at her unclad chest. He rubbed his hand up and down one arm, not wanting his fingers to be cold, and felt her pulse before taking Faith into his arms carefully. She stirred but did not awaken as he carried her around to his car, carefully arranging her in his backseat. He ignored the strong scent of stale cigarettes and alcohol that quickly filled his car as he came around to the driver's seat, and drove home in silence, trying to plan his next move. It wasn't' a question as to whether he would continue to help Faith, to look out for her as long as he could. The question was whether all of this was going to be more than he could do alone, more than he could really handle.

Should he have told Willow and the others about what had been going on, even if he asked them not to do anything about it yet? Was it selfish and arrogant of him to try to do this alone- was it going to bring more hurt to Faith in the end? Should he have enlisted their ears, if not their hands, in helping her?

But if he told them, no doubt they would be concerned… they would probably want to help in some way, at least some of them, even if Xander asked them not to be. And he felt instinctively that involvement from them at this point would cause Faith to become even more defensive, might drive her off for good. But there was so much going on with her. She needed food and clothes, a place to stay, to shower, someone to support and care about her.. and though Xander could give all that gladly, he didn't know if she would ever accept it. Adding in the binge drinking, the unabated grief, and the suicidal behaviors, and it was a whole new ballgame- one Xander was afraid could not be won on either side.

He knew what Faith didn't' need right now was space. But how could he insure she didn't' have that when she ran away every time he dragged her home with him?

And then there was the dreams… twice now Xander had witnessed her in deep distress, hysterical over nightmares in a way he had never seen her before, never thought possible in association with her. Though he had no idea what they consisted of or even if they were the same both times, their occurrence and her reaction to them twice in a row seemed too incredible to be coincidence. But what did that mean, and what could he possibly do to stop her from dreaming, anyway? Nothing, of course.

Too many questions, too few answers, all were creating the beginnings of a headache. As Xander pulled into his apartment's parking lot and lifted Faith into his arms again, he steeled himself to try with her…again.

Author notes again: This will be the last chapter for a while though it is by no means finished, I'm going to see relatives from December 26-31 or so. So hope this is a decent place to pause for a while. Merry Christmas!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

This is what it means to be held  
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life  
And you survive  
This is what it is to be loved and to know  
That the promise was when everything fell  
We'd be held

"Held" by Natalie Grant

Fumbling slightly at the doorstep with the task of continuing to hold Faith while also unlocking his door, Xander managed after a couple of tries and stepped inside his apartment, heading straight for the couch. All of this was very familiar now; carrying an inebriated Faith home with him, settling her on his couch, getting little sleep as he tried to remain alert to her and aware of what she was doing. And yet despite the several repetitions of this that had occurred thus far, despite Xander's knowledge that this time would also very likely end with Faith's growing defensive and fleeing, repeating the cycle all over again, he couldn't not do this, couldn't not try to care for her. And who knew…maybe this time would be different. Third time's the charm and all… one could hope, anyway.

Although he could feel the weariness in his muscles, in the heated sensation behind his eyes, Xander still felt keyed up, his mind and thoughts active with continued adrenaline left over from his earlier encounter. He doubted he would be able to sleep for some time yet. And if things ran along the same course that they had the previous two times he had brought Faith home with him, then she wouldn't allow him to sleep for very long anyway.

Laying Faith on the couch gently, once more scanning the length of her to see that she looked okay, Xander covered her with a thin blanket, starting to back away. Her mouth was slightly open, her breathing slow and heavy… and Xander had to simply stop and watch her for a few moments, his heart tightening in his chest. Without being quite aware that he was thinking of doing so he stepped forward and placed his fingertips lightly on her cheek before bending to press a kiss to her forehead.

She didn't move, to his relief, though he was fairly certain that he had seen her eyes flutter under their lids. Straightening, glancing back at her one more time, Xander turned, beginning the familiar and probably futile task of preparing for her awakening.

The first thing he did was go through his bedroom and bathroom, removing pills, cleaner, and weapons and razors, hiding them away under the kitchen sink. He didn't think in his heart of hearts that Faith would use any of them against herself, but Xander wouldn't take chances. Next he began to pull out various food items as he had before and lay them on the counter in hopes of tempting her, though again, he doubted that if she woke, she would be staying long enough to be tempted to do much of anything.

Thus prepped, Xander didn't know what else he could do but wait for Faith to wake up. Maybe this time he could find the words to make her stay… maybe this time she would be too tired or too sick to want to run. Maybe this time she would trust him enough to not want to run…

It wasn't likely, but Xander had grown up in Sunnydale, and stranger things had happened. So he took another shower, and with his hair damp and body more relaxed, if not mind, he took the familiar position across from Faith in the recliner, trying to think of what he should do when she regained consciousness. When he had checked on her after his shower, it had looked like she had passed from unconsciousness to sleep, judging from the movement of her eyes, and Xander doubted it would be long before she awakened in distress, if things went as they had before.

* * *

Xander's thoughts were proven correct when within ten minutes, Faith's hoarse scream pierced the air. Though he had almost expected it, the noise had still been very sudden, and his heart nearly skipped a beat, his breath catching when she screamed again. The agony in her voice sent a shiver down his spine…

"No, no, oh god no no no!"

It was the same as the other two incidents, exactly the same… the same screams, the same spoken words, the same frantic flailing and deep level of sleep that seemed difficult for Faith to pull herself out of. Xander had seen this three times now, but this was part of the reason he was so concerned. One extremely traumatic nightmare he could understand, especially after heavy drinking, and maybe even two…but three, three times in a row, that provoked exactly the same extreme reaction, exactly the same level of distress in a woman who had never, until now, displayed such obvious anguish where he or anyone else could see, as far as Xander knew and believed?

This had to be a serious problem…this had to mean something more. Whether it was a result of Faith's drinking, her mental or emotional state, or caused by some other serious and unidentified issue, Xander didn't know, but he knew that he wanted to know exactly what it was that she was seeing… to know what was happening, what it was they were dealing with, he would have to know.

"Faith," he said urgently, raising his voice over her voice, but remaining in the recliner, apart from her thrashing limbs and ear-splitting outcries in response to whatever horrors she was battling behind closed eyes. "Faith…Faith, it's okay. It's Xander…it's okay. Wake up…"

When she finally broke forth from the dream she was in the same nearly shellshocked state she had awakened in on the other two occasions. Her hair was tangled and slightly damp with sweat, face pale and wet with tears, her eyes bright with emotion and sparking, wary, still partly caught in the unreality of her nightmare. She was shivering, every muscle taut, and Xander knew it was a very delicate balance of whether she would bolt…what he said and did now meant everything.

He wanted so badly to put his arms around her, to comfort her as he would a friend, a child, a…anyone who needed it as badly as she must. But he knew he could not, not in that manner, and not in that moment. Instead he stood slowly, making sure to meet her eyes, to send silent reassurance that he was making no move toward her, and backed toward the kitchen area. Faith didn't move didn't say a word, her eyes regarding him intently, yet not threatened enough to explode yet into action.

Xander returned with a glass of water and three aspirin, which he placed slowly on the coffee table, from the other side, making sure not to get too near her. Trying to be discreet about it, he also set a few tissues several inches away, as if they were entirely separate from the other items and had been there all along, not brought there by him. Xander certainly wouldn't have noticed she might need them, no sir, of course not.

Having done this, Xander slowly returned to the recliner and sat, not wanting to overcrowd Faith, or to provoke her with too many or too sudden movements, but also wanting to remain close. He still expected her to bolt, expected her to scream at him, given a few more moments to compose herself. He tried to look at her only out the corner of his eye, so she wouldn't think he was staring at her, feigning total distraction and fascination with the blank TV screen. He did all this and waited, anticipant of her eventual reaction.

For several moments Faith barely showed one at all, an odd, marked contrast to the occasions from before. She was very still, her muscles drawn tightly in both face and body, and she did not speak, made no noise beyond her slightly heightened breaths. Xander waited tensely, not sure of what he was doing, of what Faith was doing, convinced she would explode into some sort of angry reaction soon, as she had done before.

But she didn't. She remained wordless, if not silent, and he could feel her eyes on him, watching him… assessing him? Or was she working up anger towards him… or was she simply becoming reoriented of her surroundings, figuring out where she was and how she had come to be there?

He saw her abruptly jerk her gaze away from him, and her hand shot forward, reaching for the glass of water. Faith drank it somewhat sloppily, in one long swallow, seeming to have the thirst of someone who hadn't drank anything in days- and that could in fact be close to true. Xander suspected her liquid diet, not to mention her solid diet, had consisted of not much more than alcohol and the occasional junk food item, and alcohol was dehydrating.

Faith scooped the pills off the table without bothering to inspect them or ask about them, putting them in her mouth together and dry swallowing impressively. As Xander continued to avoid looking at her straight on, quickly running through the list of possibilities of how to address her that he had made earlier in his mind, Faith ignored the tissues he had set down, instead wiping a hand roughly and impatiently across her face and sniffing. Taking a deep breath, she clinched her jaw, muttering a curse. Whether directed at him or herself, Xander wasn't sure.

But she didn't move, didn't jump up, and she didn't address Xander directly. He could tell looking at her that she was alert now, that she knew where she was and what had happened to get her there- though whether she remembered everything about the previous night was questionable. But still she did nothing… far from the reaction he had expected, and his mind took over in an attempt to understand.

Maybe she was withdrawing into herself, hoping it would all just go away…maybe she had such a bad hangover or migraine or something that she thought moving or talking would make it worse. Maybe she was so furious at him that she was giving him the silent treatment, though that would be so uncharacteristic of Faith that Xander couldn't believe it to be the truth. Maybe it was the opposite end of the spectrum and she realized and wanted his help, and was being silent in hopes that he would draw her out. Or maybe she was simply too run down with physical and emotional exhaustion to keep running anymore.

Xander didn't know, and there was really no way he could know without asking. Faith certainly wasn't going to spell it out for him. But the difference gave him hope, and he cleared his throat, speaking to her softly.

"Faith, if you're hungry, there's food in the table in the kitchen."

Her reply was slow in coming, spoken through a very tensed jaw, its tone measured…but still much more civil than Xander had expected.

"I don't want food, Xander."

Xander couldn't be sure, but he thought that the way Faith had worded the sentence had some sort of implication behind it. She didn't want food… what was it that she did want? It would be nice if just once in a while he wasn't scrambling for answers, if she could just give them to him straight up.

But then of course she wouldn't be Faith, and so Xander took a subtle breath, deciding to go for it… he'd never been once to be great at preserving delicate balances.

"Faith…" he said carefully, glancing at her briefly, so as not to anger her with staring. "Faith…does that happen with you a lot?"

Faith's head turned toward him sharply, and he could see her gritting her teeth, eyes narrowed, darkening until they were almost black. Oh, he could see the danger of persisting with this…but he had to know. How could they know what they were dealing with if he didn't know?

"WHAT?" she asked darkly, almost threatening, and Xander drew in a deep breath, making himself go on, making himself look at her this time.

"Your dreams, Faith… your nightmares. Do they happen just like that every night? Because it seems that-"

"Fuck you, Xander," she snapped, her voice low, almost a growl, and it stunned him that she wasn't screaming just as much as the fact that as angrily as she was holding herself, Faith still wasn't moving. "You think you can just shove your way into my life however the fuck you want to and it's fuckin' okay, is that what you think?"

"I think that I care what's happening with you," Xander said evenly, returning her stare now, though more gently. "I think I care that you're suffering. We don't have to talk about it right now… but I also think that we both know there must be something more to this, and that I should know what happens with it so we can maybe figure out how to make it stop."

"You can't fuckin' make it stop," Faith ground out, her voice fierce, rising slightly. "No one can make it stop, especially not YOU."

Xander felt the sting of that remark but tried to ignore it, even though he knew it was probably true.

"No…I can' if you never let me try," he replied quietly.

There was silence between them for several moments, broken only by the sounds of their slightly uneven breaths. When Faith spoke her voice was rough, insistent.

"I'm not fuckin' telling you, Xander. I'm NOT, so give it up already, okay?"

"Okay," Xander said in response, knowing there was nothing else he could reply back with at the moment, knowing it was the only answer that wouldn't immediately raise Faith's defensive state.

For now, it was shocking enough to him that she was still sitting on his couch, however warily, that she had remained in the room with him and was speaking to him. He had just been hoping for the moment to make her talk anyway. It wasn't the most important thing now… the most important thing was to keep her with him, keep her talking to him, even if only on her own terms, so maybe then he could get her to open up just a little, get her to trust him even more.

He wasn't going to push her any further, not now, no matter how badly he wanted to. Instead Xander said nothing further, and simply waited for Faith's next gesture.

The near silence stretched between them as neither spoke. Xander didn't move, continuing to pretend not to watch Faith, to be absorbed in his own thoughts, even as he regarded her subtly. He saw her shift herself repeatedly, restlessly, saw her hands clinching the blanket he had spread over her earlier, almost to the point of tearing it. He saw the way she seemed somehow even smaller than she was, as if her mental state was literally causing her to draw in on herself physically. He heard her swallow once, heard her sharp intake of breath, and didn't dare to look more closely, to search her face for clues to her thoughts, her feelings, that she was trying so hard to hide.

Nearly five minutes of no speaking went by between them before Xander became aware of the suddenly shaky sound of Faith's breaths, and realized she had turned her face as far from his view of her as she could without turning her body as well. He turned his head, not trying to hide that he was looking at her now, and frowned, only able to see part of her cheek and jaw. Even so he was able to tell by looking, hearing, however softly. Faith was crying, and trying to keep from making any sounds or moves that would betray this to him.

Xander paused, his heart twisting for her. If it had been Dawn, Willow… if it had been Buffy…

His mind stumbled over this thought, his heart more pained than ever, but he pushed forward with it determinedly, though he swallowed.

If it had been Buffy, then he would have went to her, sat with her, wrapped an arm around her and said something soft and soothing to indicate that he was there, that he cared, that he would stay near her through her pain and help her through it. He wanted to do that for Faith, almost ached to be able to… but he hesitated, unsure.

Xander leaned towards Faith without actually moving closer to her, put a hand on his own knee in an unconscious substitute of his desire to put a hand on Faith. He kept his voice soft, as non-threatening and gentle as he could as he spoke her name. "Faith?"

She did not respond in words, at least, not for some time. Though she made very little noise beyond occasional deep, shuddery breaths, and she did not turn her face toward him, did not move to wipe it or otherwise acknowledge the existence of her slow, quiet tears, Xander knew that she was still crying, and he suspected that she knew he knew as well.

His skin almost itched with his desire to touch her, to speak to her again, but Xander kept still, not wanting to break the fragile balance hanging between them, the balance keeping her from leaving. He was afraid that he was doing the wrong thing by not going to her, by not asking her to talk to him, but something told him that he was not.

"Fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck," he heard Faith mutter to herself, the words barely audible, and not quite clear. She exhaled again, this time sniffing more noticeably, her voice slightly louder now, though nearly cracking.

"Fuck, I'm so fuckin' weak…fuck."

Another few moments went by, and as Xander decided to reply to that, gathering words, she spoke again, her voice even louder, her words gathering anger as well as self-disgust.

" I'm so fuckin' WEAK, this is BULLSHIT! This is fuckin' bullshit, what the FUCK is wrong with me?!"

"You're not, Faith," Xander interjected quietly but levelly, hoping she would turn her head to meet his eyes- hoping she wouldn't flip out on him for his reply, or having noticed her at all. For all he knew, Faith had forgotten he was in the room.

"You're not weak," he clarified, and Faith's head swiveled to regard him, her eyes flashing with some emotion or thought he couldn't interpret. Almost as quickly as she had turned to look at him she turned away again, the taut tendons of her back and shoulders noticeable even in the dim lighting of the room.

"Yes I am," she said roughly, her tone fierce, the words coming through a clinched jaw and gritted teeth. Xander could see that she had indeed torn the blanket with her grip. She didn't seem to notice this but rather continued to hold it in the same way, tearing it further. "Look at me, look at where I fuckin AM. I'm so damn weak it's fuckin' disgusting."

The words came out rapidly, so much that Xander wondered if she had meant to say them or if they had simply tumbled out on their own accord. Her breathing slightly staggered, her hands shaking on the blanket, Faith looked away, going so far as to turn her body now as well. Xander was afraid from the look of her that she would jump up at any second, so he spoke quickly, but gently, sincerely, still fighting the urge to go to her side, to give her some sort of comforting touch to go with his simple words.

"No Faith…you're not. You're not."

Again a silence fell between them, and Xander was almost holding his breath, almost praying, hoping that she would stay put, that she would not take offense in his words. He waited, biting his lip slightly, wondering what Faith was thinking, what she wanted, whether she even knew. And then he realized that he did know what she wanted, what must have been all she wanted ever since…Buffy. all of them, they all just wanted Buffy.

He could tell from her breathing that she was crying again, or close to it, but he gave her space, hoping it was right. When she took a sharp breath, a slight sobbing sound escaping that made her swear again, he knew they were on the verge of it… something, what he did not know, and waited.

Her words came suddenly, as they had before, stumbling, and Xander knew they were unplanned. He listened closely, leaning in.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Just lay it all down, put your face into my neck and let it fall out

I know, I know, I know, I knew before you got home

This world you're in now, it doesn't have to be alone

I'll get there somehow…I know, I know, I know

When even springtime feels cold

But I will learn to breathe this ugliness you see

So we can both be there and we can both share the dark

And in our honesty together we will rise

Out of our nightminds and into the light at the end of the fight

"Nightminds," Missy Higgins

"It's just, it's just that it's every night, you know? If it wasn't, I could take it, I mean, it wouldn't be, I could take it, but it's not, okay, it's just NOT. It's every night, all the time, whenever I close my eyes, and I can't stop it, I can't NOT see it, I have to watch it, every time, every damn time!" Faith said in a rush, her words halting at first, but the agitation in her tone and features made plain. She was still turned away from him, but Xander saw her shoulders round in further, saw her take a deep gulping breath before going on, and he could hear the tears in her voice, could sense how close they were to falling.

Xander didn't speak, didn't try to question her or make sense of what she was saying; he didn't dare do anything that might bring her attention to the fact that she was speaking to him at all. He waited, and barely any time passed before Faith went on, picking up where she left off with a visible shudder coming over her.

"Every night, every fuckin' NIGHT, I see it, I can't get away from it. Doesn't matter what I do, where I go, who I'm with, there it is," she almost mumbled, her voice lower now, a little calmer, but no less wrought with feeling. "I'm so damn tired… don't even want to sleep, don't want any of it, but I'm so fuckin' TIRED, nothing helps, none of this, it doesn't matter what I do. Doesn't matter, none of it, it's still there, it's still fuckin' THERE."

Faith broke off again, her breath still faster, uneven, and though she was still turned away Xander was certain now that she was crying. Almost a full minute went by before she spoke again, her voice so soft, vulnerable, and almost childlike that he was sure that she was speaking to herself more than she was to him.

"It won't stop."

Xander didn't stop himself from looking at Faith now; not only was he fairly certain that she would neither notice nor care, in her current emotional state of mind, but he was also not sure that he would have been able to stop himself from looking at her, even had she shown objections. He hurt for her so badly that his heart ached inside him, and he swallowed, his throat dry with his desire to help her somehow, in any way that he could, any way to ease just a little the pain that so heavily reverberated in her voice, radiating outward from her posture. All he had wanted from the time he first saw Faith in her motel room was to help her, and so far, only fear and Faith had been factors in the way of doing so. But now that Faith seemed so low in her guardedness, so unlike he had seen her in…well, ever… who was he to let his fear hold him back?

He wouldn't touch her, not yet, as much as he wanted to- he wouldn't yet even move closer. But Xander spoke to her, gently pressing her to clarify to him her words.

"Faith…Faith, what won't stop? Your dreams? What you see in them- is that what you mean?"

He heard her swallow, saw her face tighten in profile, as if she were forcing back tears, and he expected her voice to mirror the tension in her face. But instead it was soft, almost cracking, as it had been before, and Xander almost wished hearing it that she had instead expressed rage.

"No…her. She won't…B..Buffy won't stop."

Xander took a slow breath, thinking that it of course made sense, that of course Buffy and her death must be the cause of Faith's dreams. Seeing her in them- maybe even seeing her dead in them- surely that would be agony for Faith, and it made sense as to her reaction to them. He had thought it could have something to do with that.

He didn't know how much further he could push Faith without her uncharacteristically open state switching over fast, and he was concerned too that if he pushed too much, he would hurt her even more painfully than she already was hurt. Xander tried to back off in his questioning, leaving it open for Faith to say more if she wanted to, and he kept his voice soft, his face turned towards her as he addressed her again.

"So…you see Buffy… in your dreams? You…you dream about Buffy?"

Very slightly she nodded, her hands still unconsciously tearing at the blanket, shoulders so stiffly drawn that Xander knew they would pain her later, if they didn't currently. She had stopped her tears, but even though she did not speak he could tell they were close to surface all the same. He hesitated, hating to continue, hating that any part of him cared more about understanding than stopping Faith from continuing to be in pain…but didn't he have to do this, didn't he have to understand at least a little, to be able to stop her pain?

"You see her die?" he asked softly, half hoping she wouldn't respond… for as much as he wanted to help, a part of him still shrank away from this, from what he knew would increase his own pain. "In your dreams…you see her…"

"Yeah," Faith nearly whispered, and he saw a tear fall, heard her voice go hoarse at the effort to stop more from following its tracks.

She had her legs bent up now tightly to her chest, was almost but not quite hiding her face in her knees…looking and sounding so unlike the Faith that Xander had seen in the day before that he almost wished she would go back to her former enraged self. As much as he had worried over a drunken, fierce, destructively out of control Faith, this quiet, unmoving, tearfully exhausted version scared him just as much, if not more so. She looked nearly broken…was Faith broken now? In his desire that she break down so he could reach out, had he somehow cursed her into breaking completely?

Or was this good and right, as wrong as it might seem…the first step to trust, the first step to forgiveness?

"God…Faith, I'm sorry," he said slowly, not knowing what else to say, still stumbling through each moment with her the best that he could think to. "That must be… is it…I mean, is it graphic… do you…well, what-"

"I can't stand it anymore," Faith cut him off suddenly, and Xander realized that she hadn't been listening to him, hadn't been hearing his fumbling attempt to speak to her at all.

She was turned away still, but he heard the fierceness returning to her voice, even as it mingled with her pain. He tensed, not sure if she were about to react, yet again, in a manner he had not anticipated.

"I can't stand this, I can't fuckin' STAND this, I can't BE this anymore! I can't SEE it- I can't, I can't fuckin' watch it, I can't see her die again, and do nothing, and keep feeling like it's me dying too, every night I'm dying too! I wish I would, I fuckin' wish I WOULD!"

"Don't say that," Xander said quickly, alarmed, "Faith, don't say that. You don't mean it-"

"Yes I do," she said rapidly, her voice intense, insistent, her body turning suddenly and violently as she threw the blanket off of herself, her eyes dark, yet flashing with emotion. "Yes, I do! I wish I would die, I fuckin' should have, it should have been me! It should have been ME, not her, I should have fuckin' SAVED her-"

"Faith- Faith, you couldn't have," Xander interjected quickly, alarmed by the look in her eyes, the way her voice was getting louder and faster as she continued to speak, the anger and self-loathing in it more obvious. "You weren't there. It's not your fault. It's no one's fault, it's not-"

"Yes it is!" Faith almost screamed, and Xander flinched, knowing better than to try to go against her words when she was staring at him so intently, almost trembling, when her voice so clearly indicated that right now she could neither listen nor believe anything that anyone but her own emotions told her.

"Yes it is, Xander! I could have been there, I SHOULD have been there! I was SUPPOSED to be there! It could have been me, not her, I could have saved her, I was SUPPOSED to save her! It should have been me!"

"Faith," Xander repeated, and against his better judgment he stood, started to step towards her tensed form on the couch with his hand half-extended to her. "Faith, no. Faith, that's not true, it's-"

"Oh it's not fuckin' true, Xander?! Then why the fuck do I see it, Xander?!" Faith nearly screamed, her face darkening to a color close to scarlet, the tendons in her neck sticking out prominently. Her hands were in fists again and Xander's eyes darted down to them quickly, figuring it would be a good idea to watch what she did with them. Somehow his estimation of Faith's broken had been way, way off, because here before him, the aggressive Faith he was used to had obviously returned, at least for the moment.

"Why do I see it then, huh- why do I see HER?! Why do I have to watch it every night, every fuckin' NIGHT, why do I have to see that wicked ugly seven foot bastard, the FUCKER that kills her?!"

Faith was out right screaming now; about the time that Xander had stood, she had leapt to her feet too, causing him to halt in his steps toward her immediately. She stood tall now, unmoving, her every word and very lack of expressive gestures making quite clear to him the strength of her feelings… which seemed to him to be just as strong as her body was.

"Why do I have to watch her die, over and over, why do I have to watch it KILL her?" she was almost shrieking, and Xander knew better than to reply, even if he'd had a decent answer to give her. "Why do I have to watch it take that long-ass fuckin' spike of his and stab it THROUGH her, all the way THROUGH her, and she just stands there and bleeds, just stands there and DIES, and I can't do shit to stop it, because I'm not fuckin' THERE, even if I see it I'm not fuckin' THERE! Why do I have to watch her looking at me like that, and she's doing it, she's telling me I wasn't there, she's fuckin' TELLING me I didn't help- if none of that's true, then why is she fuckin' LOOKING at me like that, every single night?!"

With that said, Faith's face shivered, seeming on the verge of cracking, before her features crumpled, tears beginning to streak down her cheeks. She didn't bother to hide them this time, didn't turn away or attempt to stifle the harsh sobs breaking forth from her diaphragm, forcing their way up through her throat.

"I didn't help her," she choked out before lowering her head, her arms moving to cup her elbows protectively, holding herself tightly in a near embrace. "I didn't help her…that's what she keeps trying to show me, that's…"

She didn't bother to finish her sentence, and now she was absent of the rage, absent of the aggression Xander had been almost relieved to see before. Still standing, her shoulders slumping inward, she cried, and Xander had to do something, couldn't stand to try to be logical and removed from her any longer, no matter what she wanted. And surely she couldn't want that…

He went to her, encircling her in his arms with a strong embrace. Faith tried to pull away from him but with very weak gestures, not really a true protest at all, and he easily held her to him. After only a few moments she stopped even the pretense and just cried, less forcefully than before, letting him hold her, letting him close… in more ways than just physically.

Xander rubbed a hand over her shoulder gently, fingered a lock of her hair between his fingers, even dared to quickly kiss the top of her head. But mostly he simply held her, lent her his arms and shoulders for the couple of minutes she needed them, and didn't try too hard to do much more. He didn't know how to do much more, to be honest.

He got her to sit after a few moments and continued to keep his arms around her, continued to touch her back gently, to say quiet words that meant nothing, that both forgot as soon as they heard them. And in those few minutes Xander's mind was clicking, thinking of what Faith had told him of her dream.

It all made sense, that she would be so distraught, so utterly desperate to distance herself, to numb herself. If she were dreaming of Buffy's death each time she slept, and in such vivid detail…Xander hated to dream of Buffy at all, but to dream of her dying, and over and over, with no relief… he didn't think he could have handled it either. There was no way to predict how badly off he might have been…

What if it did mean something…why else would Faith dream that, and with such seemingly clear and accurate details, when they had not discussed in detail Buffy's death to her that he knew of…when little was known about the creature or demon that had killed her? Could it be that the dream really was from Buffy, really did mean something, a message to Faith?

Xander knew Slayers often had prophetic dreams, or dreams that were flashbacks, and Buffy and Faith had shared dreams before, even communicated messages to each other through them. So maybe Faith was right.. maybe Buffy was trying to tell her something. But not that Faith hadn't saved her, not an accusation… what if Buffy wasn't telling Faith that she had needed her help then, but rather that she needed her help now?

"I can't fuckin' do this anymore," Faith said suddenly, her voice quiet, subdued, and Xander looked down at her, startled. She was no longer crying, but her face was pale and drawn, her eyes shiny, almost sunken in appearance. "I can't."

Xander touched the back of her head gently, his voice as quiet as hers.

"You don't have to," he said, and he intended with all his heart for it to be true. "Not anymore."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Has no one told you she's not breathing…hello

I'm your mind, giving you someone to talk to…hello…

Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping….hello

I'm still here, all that's left of yesterday….

Evanescence, "Hello"

Though Faith's tears didn't last very long, and she drew away, calming herself, soon after they had ended, Xander continued to focus on her, watching her somewhat worriedly. He knew that he would have to bring up to her what he had been thinking of as he held her, that he would have to talk to her about it before she left again, or closed herself off to him entirely. It would be hard, not only because Xander was never one to know how he should go about such a conversation, but also because of the confliction of desires that went along with his conviction that he needed to do so.

He wanted very much to preserve Faith's trust in him, to assure her that with him she could have her privacy, that all her pain and weaknesses, her mistakes and screw-ups, would not be shared and sneered over, picked apart or laughed at by everyone else. He knew that if he told her to talk to others, this fragile trust in him would be badly shaken.

There was another, more selfish reason that Xander didn't want to say anything as well. A small part of him, as much as he hated to admit it, liked that she trusted him, and seemingly no others, right now, with her life, her thoughts, her emotions. He liked being needed… and he liked that SHE needed him. A part of him wanted to care for Faith himself, all by himself, to continue to keep her secret, only for him- to save her by himself. Xander hated this part of himself, but it existed, even if to a slight degree, and he could not deny that.

He wanted to keep Faith and her problems for his own self to deliver, but Xander knew he could not. For one thing, he would never singlehandedly be able to deliver Faith from anything, especially her own self- he had known this even before the past few days. Even if he could figure out a way to somehow do so, a way that could possibly work, Xander would not have tried, for he knew very well that he had to do what was best for Faith, and not just what could possibly work out if a lot of effort was given. And from what he had heard of Faith's dream, he knew that Giles, at the very least, should be given a heads up as to what had been going on.

He also knew very well that however gently he might suggest it, Faith was not going to like his advice to her to tell Giles about the dreams. Even if she knew it should be done, that it had to be done, she would likely resist actually doing so in every possible way… and Xander would have to be very, very careful in how he broached the subject with her, especially considering how she had just lay herself open emotionally in front of him. Problem was, as usual, how?

Once she had regained control of her emotional display, if not her emotions altogether, Faith once again withdrew from Xander somewhat, but not in the extreme way that he had witnessed from her previously. She was quiet, but not motionless or nearly mute, as she had been after his first experience with seeing her cry. She was somewhat restless and wary in the way she held herself, but she neither ran nor screamed at him, nor did she flinch if he so much as shifted his weight. This in and of itself was something like a miracle to Xander's eyes- metaphorically, of course, since he only had the one. He deliberately gave her space, first returning to his more distant seat on the recliner, and then leaving the room altogether to give her a few moments alone.

Faith wasn't saying much, but neither was she overly snappy or defensive, at least for the moment. Of course, Xander hadn't been saying much either, and both had done what they could to avoid looking at each other more than necessary. To him she seemed tired, too much so to care what he thought, and too deeply involved in her own thoughts to question what his might be.

Xander made her a few sandwiches, grabbed a granola bar, a bag of chips, and an apple as well, along with two sodas, and set them before her on the coffee table, still careful not to meet her eyes. He hoped that if he didn't comment about the food or her need to eat, but rather simply set it down before her, Faith would eat it without thinking much about it.

Sure enough, when Xander placed the food down and returned to the kitchen to get himself a sandwich as well, taking his place at the recliner with it a few minutes later, Faith was watching him, her eyes narrowed slightly, brow creased, as if she were trying to figure him out. By Xander's third bite, when he continued to neither try to speak to her nor ask her to eat, she picked up a sandwich hesitantly and began to eat as well. She proceeded more slowly than usual at first, perhaps because of a general lack of appetite, perhaps because of stomach issues, maybe even simply because she was now unused to meals or people watching her eat. Within the next minute her speed had picked up considerably, and by the time Xander had finished his single sandwich, everything he'd put before her was gone. Noticing this, he wanted to grin, but instead he simply got up and returned with more food, making a mental note to himself that he would need to get more groceries.

He waited until she had finished the next round of food, until she had relaxed her posture noticeably and her pallor was a much healthier shade than when she had first awakened, until the quite between them was almost, if not entirely, comfortable. He waited until he was sure she wasn't about to leave, sure that she had no intention of speaking at the moment. He waited until he didn't know how much longer he could put it off, until he was almost squirming in his seat, and then he asked her, his voice quiet.

"Faith…what do you want to do now?"

Her eyes slid over to meet his eye slowly, then slid away again. She exhaled, shrugging in one almost sighing gesture.

"Don't know. Guess I'll have to find out."

"You know you can stay here," Xander went on, trying to meet her wandering eyes, to convey to her the sincerity of his words. "For as long as you want or need. I would like you to, if that's what you decide you want to do."

"Not doing that. Can't," Faith refuted almost immediately, shaking her head, and she did glance at him briefly again, her eyes dark with thought, distant. "Can't. I should get back to my own place… you don't need my mooching off you, getting under your feet, and I'm not gonna do it." She gave a faint, crooked half smile briefly. "Don't want you under my feet either, so don't worry about it."

"It's not mooching, especially if you're invited. And you are," Xander corrected, and he smiled back, pleased by her smile, however brief and contrived it might be. "you did plenty of things before to help me out, save the world, I'd just be doing a little favor. Actually you'd be doing ME a favor, since I asked you."

"No," Faith repeated, shaking her head, but there wasn't much conviction in her words, nor was her tone very vehement… especially for Faith. Looking at her, listening to her, Xander's hopes rose again, for it looked to him like she was saying no just for the sake of saying it rather than because she really wanted to or was really determined to follow her own insistence. "No, I told you, I'm not doing that, Xander, so you can stop asking already."

"Asking? I'm not asking, I'm begging," Xander said in a playful tone, and he took a chance, sliding off of the recliner and dropping to his knees, though he was careful to keep a measured distance away from her. He intertwined his fingers in a mock pleading pose and raised his voice into a high-pitched near whine, giving his best puppy eyes and hoping that she would laugh or smile at his antics…or at least not knock him upside the head.

"Please Faith, please… come on, stay. Stay today. Stay a couple of days. Stay a week. Mooch off me! I'm begging you to mooch…I'm pleading for mooching… I don't know how I can stand for you not to mooch when it's been so long since I've had the opportunity to be moochee instead of moocher…"

For a few moments Faith just stared at him, eyes narrowed. She seemed unable to decide if he was making fun of her and she should kick him in the balls and yell at him, or if he was serious, or just being Xander. Finally she just smirked slightly, to his relief, and shook her head.

"You're just hoping to catch me in the shower, man, I know your game. Didn't you get enough of that already?"

"You got me," Xander smiled, getting back to his feet, and he had to work not to smile even more obviously because the little show of silliness seemed to have worked. She hadn't said she would stay with him, but neither had she said that she wouldn't. And from Faith, that was about as good of a promise as he could expect.

Her smirk faded quickly though, and Faith eyed him more seriously, her tone darkening to match her expression as she asked him, "Did you tell them about me?"

As ambiguous as the question was, Xander knew exactly who and what Faith was referring to… she wanted to know if he had told Giles, Willow, or any of the others about finding her, about the events over the past couple of days that he had witnessed and taken part in. Faith could not disguise that this was no casual question, that she was deeply interested in its answer, and she watched him closely, her face still, yet a mere flicker of movement away from… some intense response that Xander hastened to defuse from ever occurring.

"No," he replied quickly, shaking his head. "No, I didn't tell them anything."

Faith watched him for a few more moments, eyes narrowed, as though she were searching him out, assessing his truthfulness. What she saw must have satisfied her, for she nodded abruptly, a single fast incline of her head.

"Good."

The word was muttered, meant for her own ears more than this, and she exhaled, taking the opportunity to stretch, to look away, to bring herself to look closer to okay than Xander had seen her since…well, since. But whether this was because she truly was, or because she simply felt coherent and aware enough to act right now, was debatable.

Xander hesitated, wondering briefly if this was the right moment. But would there ever really be a right moment? So far all he had been doing was plunging forth blindly, hoping he didn't cause too much damage… and wasn't that about all he really could do?

"I wanted to talk to you about that, Faith," he said quickly, before he lost his nerve, before Faith got up, walked away, and the window of opportunity was closed. "Can we do that for a minute?"

Faith's eyes went to his eye, and there was that familiar suspicion again, the familiar guardedness, the familiar tension and readiness to flee… damn. So it wasn't gone, of course it wasn't gone, it was only set aside sometimes. He would have to risk it though…he had to, if they were to go through with this.

"Do what?" she was asking, the edge returning to her voice, and Xander had to stop himself from taking a visible and audible deep breath before plunging forth.

"I think we do need to tell them about what's been going on, Faith… at least Giles, anyway. Not about everything- not about anything, if you don't want to… except the dream. The dream is probably important though, Faith, I think-"

"No," Faith said flatly. She didn't raise her voice, didn't sound angry, but there was no room for argument in her tone. "No way in hell, Xander. No."

There might not have been room for arguing in her words, but that didn't prevent Xander from trying, and he did his best with it.

"Listen Faith- I think you need to tell Giles," he said quietly, but persistently, looking into her almost stony gaze earnestly, hoping. "What you've been seeing… the way you've been seeing it, over and over…it's not normal. I think that you know it's not normal. It's not just grief, it's not because you're losing it or crazy or anything like that. You know that, right? I don't know a lot, but I know that's not true."

He paused, glancing at her quickly, but Faith did not respond, her jaw set. He hurried on, hoping she was listening and not just trying to keep herself from punching him out the front door.

"You know you have Slayer dreams, Faith… you know they mean something, that they're not just dreams. And you…you and Buffy…"

He said the name gently, watching her, but he still saw the slight flinch that it caused, the pain that flickered across her eyes.

"You and Buffy had a special connection with dreams…didn't you? This dream, I think it means something, Faith. And I think you need to tell Giles so we can help you figure out what that something is."

"There's nothing he can do to help," Faith said roughly, shaking her head. "Even if I NEEDED help, which I don't-"

Uh oh… Xander thought, signs of backsliding… he better back of a little, she's already closing up again…

"Then I know what he'd do. He'd poke and prod me and question me all around until he came up with the same conclusion, which is that she's letting me know whose fault it is, as usual. Bad enough that she's blaming me, don't want the whole fuckin' world to join in, alright?"

"Faith, he wouldn't," Xander protested, and he moved to sit beside her again, even when she stiffened, keeping herself apart from him. "I don't think that's true anyway. I think maybe Buffy's trying to tell you something-"

"Yeah, how much I suck," Faith cut him off, and though her words were brusque, derisive, he saw the pain flicker across her features at her own words, knew that as much as she tried to make it seem like she was speaking flippantly, what she was saying did hurt her. "That I fucked up like usual, that's what she's trying to tell me, I don't need Giles to interpret that for me."

"No," Xander protested, shaking his head hurriedly, thinking to himself with the beginnings of exasperation that it was almost impossible to get ideas of Faith's changed once they had occurred to her. "No, Faith, I'm telling you, that's NOT it, that's NOT what I'm saying. It wasn't even your fault, why would Buffy be blaming you for anything?"

Faith looked at him with one eyebrow arching in seeming disbelief, even letting out a dry bark of a laugh.

"Xan, you haven't been tuning in to the Buffy and Faith show of the past six years, have you? What, is it the free porn channels distracting your attention, or just cartoons?"

Xander had to concede her point there. Their relationship had been pretty rocky, and before the past year- and even during it, to a lesser extent- had consisted of a lot of fists meeting faces and fingers pointing, whether to blame the other woman or to flip her off, a lot of literal and metaphorical hand movements that didn't usually involve anything approaching affection.

Usually…as far as Xander knew, anyway… wasn't like either woman had never kept secrets of her endeavors to herself before especially when it came to sexual encounters. Although Faith was usually much more open about those than Buffy had been-

Whoa…just whoa. How the crap had he ended up down THAT trail of thought, AGAIN?

But however tumultuous the Slayers' relationship had been, Xander couldn't see Buffy blaming Faith for her death, being so spiteful as to continue to haunt her dreams for weeks at a time to accuse her…and for what purpose? To ruin her life, to drive her into insanity? To drive her to suicide, or murder?

No, just no, Buffy couldn't do that, Buffy wouldn't do that, and if Faith was thinking clearly she would know that. How could she think Buffy thought it was her fault when she hadn't even been there? She hadn't-

The idea struck him suddenly, and Xander felt himself still, an almost fearful near understanding coming over him. If this were true…if she…then…

"Faith," he said softly, and he watched her closely, even scooted a little closer to her on the couch, praying that his eye wasn't too intently fixed on hers, that she didn't see judgment in his features. "Faith… were you there?"

Faith frowned, not seeming to understand, running a hand absently through her hair, combing it back from her face. "What?"

"With…with Buffy. When she…when it got her… were you there? Did you see her…or find her…or…"

The look on her face- horror, anger, and something like a sense of betrayal- told Xander quickly that whether he was right or not, this might not have been the greatest timing to ask her, and he rushed to try to soften the question, putting up a hand as if to stop her words from coming as he spoke.

"It would be okay if you were…it still wouldn't be your fault. I mean, from what you said, the thing was enormous, and you would have…it's just, if you were there, and now you dream about it, maybe-"

"No, I wasn't fuckin' THERE, Xander, you think I would have been there and, and- what, you think I let it kill her, you think I let her die?! You think I- what, you think I ran off to save my own ass and just left her?!" Faith sputtered, her voice gaining rhythm and greater coherency toward the end, rising in volume. Her eyebrows were slanted inward toward her nose, her cheeks flushing, and with a quick glance Xander saw that her hands were gripping her knees so harshly he bet she'd be bruised later…and if it had been him she was gripping like that, something would be broken. He was profoundly grateful that it wasn't him.

"No…no, Faith, of course not," he hastened to assure her, and he definitely didn't now, not after that furious, yet also subtly hurt, reaction. "No, I just thought I'd ask, I didn't really-"

"I wouldn't do that, Xander, fuck, how the hell do you still think I could do that?" Faith demanded, and the hurt was a little more obvious now mingling with her anger, both in her voice and face. She stared at him, still gripping her knees, keeping her body rigid and separate from his, and Xander wanted to kick himself. How many screw ups did it take before he made her take off, or pull back entirely once again?

"I know. I'm sorry… I know you wouldn't," he said, and she watched him for several heavily intense moments, wary, before finally exhaling slightly, her shoulders falling, and letting her eyes drift away.

"Might as well have been, though," she almost mumbled, keeping her face averted. "Should have been…but I wasn't. I wasn't."

"I know," Xander told her, and he reached out slowly, briefly, gently touching the knee she had just nearly crushed with her own hand. He was praying all the while that she wouldn't instinctively grab it and crush him too. "Neither was I."

Their soft admission hung in the air for several seconds; neither moved, the weight of them hanging heavily. Finally Xander broke the silence, his voice still soft.

"I think she might need help, Faith… I think…maybe we can still help her. Maybe…" he hesitated, not wanting to say bring her back. None of them who had been there the last time they had done so would want to do so again…it had not been Buffy's desire for them to, and they wouldn't hurt her twice, if she was at peace. And as much as he wanted Buffy back again, Xander wanted her to be happy even more. And he didn't want to get Faith's hopes up that Buffy would ever again be alive.

But what if she wasn't at peace…what if this time she really WAS in a hell dimension? What if that was why she was sending Faith those dreams, to ask for help, or to warn her?

"Maybe she still needs us somehow," he concluded slowly, and Faith looked at him, her eyes softer, almost scared…yet hopeful, vulnerable in a way he almost hated to witness in her.

"Do you… do you think that maybe she's not really dead…or maybe we can bring her back, like the last time? Do you think that's why she…"

The words were quiet, almost hesitant, as though Faith was reluctant to ask, and yet the hope so plainly showing itself in their depths, the hope she probably didn't realize was so plain to be seen, overshadowed her reticence. Xander had to look away before replying to gather himself, for she was asking the very question he had not wanted to have to respond to.

"I don't know," he said carefully, not wanting to sound as if he didn't hope for the same thing, but also not wanting to make her more excited or anticipant of miracles than she should be at this point. "Maybe…probably not, Faith, most likely not. But if we look into this, find out more about what's going on, then we can figure out what we need to do for sure."

Faith's eyes shifted away from him, and for several moments she was silent, her shoulders once more drawn up into a tense line. When she exhaled, turning to face him again, her face was carefully set, difficult to read.

"Okay…" she nodded jerkily, shrugged, and then exhaled again before continuing. "Whatever. Tell him."

Disbelieving, Xander started to smile, had a thought to reach for her arm or shoulder, but almost as though she were reading his mind, Faith stepped back, her features tightening her voice almost sharp as she addressed him again.

"I'm not staying in the room while you do it, I don't' want to listen to your rendition of 'We gotta screw Faith's head on if we can even find the right size screws to do it' with the guy. And I'm sure as hell not talking to him myself, I'll do enough of that later. So I'm in your room, feel free to whisper dramatically or whatever shit you need," she said abruptly, and without waiting for his response, strode across the room towards the small hallway, grasping the handle to Xander's bedroom door. Turning quickly just before opening it, she added, "Just the dream shit, okay, that's all he needs to hear."

That said, she disappeared inside his room, slamming it just a little harder than was necessary. Xander smiled, still marveling at the rather astounding fact that she had actually agreed, that she was actually going to talk to Giles. He hadn't expected it to be nearly that easy… and knowing he better not waste a minute, in case she changed her mind, he immediately went to the phone and dialed Giles's number.

Giles answered on the sixth ring, sounding rather groggy yet also anxious, and Xander realized listening to him that it was rather late at night, maybe even early in the morning. Well, that couldn't be helped- whatever the hour, the man needed to get over fast, before Faith had too much time to rethink what she had agreed to.

"Giles, it's Xander. Nothing's wrong, don't worry. Well, maybe nothing's wrong. I hope. Well, actually I'm not really sure until-"

"Xander, would it be remiss of me to ask you to actually describe what is wrong rather than to speculate as to whether or not wrong is being accomplished, particularly when you awakened me at two in the morning to do so?" Giles said in a rather peevish tone, and Xander would have had to snicker at the wording of the request if he hadn't been so serious about the call.

"Yeah, sorry for- speculating…or whatever. Giles, I'm, I'm with Faith right now."

"Faith?" Giles repeated, and Xander could almost see him becoming more alert and less irritable at this news, could picture him frowning slightly, one hand moving to touch the bridge of his glasses. "Where are you… where did you find her? Why, I haven't seen her since… I had imagined she must have left…"

His voice trailed off, and Xander knew what he was probably thinking. Giles hadn't imagined anything about Faith consciously, most likely… most likely, he had simply not given her a thought. Just as Xander hadn't…just as the others hadn't.

"How is she?" Giles was asking, and there was concern in his tone now, a seriousness it had lacked before. "Is she in some sort of trouble…is she-"

"She's…well, I'm just going to jump into this," Xander began, and his eye flitted to his bedroom door, wondering if Faith was listening. "She's been having dreams… dreams of Buffy. Of…of Buffy dying."

There was a pause on the other line, and Xander knew that Giles was processing this, his mind working as he replied.

"Slayer dreams?"

"I think so… I think you need to come, Giles. We're at my apartment…the sooner the better. And when I say that, I mean now," Xander added, lowering his voice slightly as he glanced at his door again.

"I see," Giles said in a mutter, the concern and understanding nevertheless discernible in his tone. "I'm on my way. Should Willow or-"

"No, just you… no one else for now. And Giles? Put on some jet packs, alright?"

He could just picture Giles blinking at that. "Jet packs?"

"Never mind…I mean to hurry."

Hanging up the phone, Xander sighed before turning back towards his bedroom door, eyeing it for a few moments. God he hoped this would help… couldn't hurt, could it? If Faith talked to Giles… at least she was here, at least she was sober and had eaten, had talked to him. At least…

He knocked on the door, calling out her name. When Faith didn't reply, he knocked again, thinking that she was simply ignoring him, gathering herself, perhaps. Or maybe she was in the bathroom .

The third time he knocked with no response his dread rose up sharply, and Xander moved to open the door, discovering that it was locked. Another few moments of maneuvering with his license to open it and he saw what he had suspected…his window was wide open, the curtains pushed aside, and Faith was nowhere to be found.

As Xander stared at it, his stomach sinking in disappointment and worry, he knew there was no point in trying to find Faith, yet again. It was dark, late, and she was fast, sober, and a Slayer… and had obviously changed her mind. He couldn't make her return.

Shit…

* * *

He had to call Giles back, of course, and explain what had happened. He didn't tell him about the dreams. That was for Faith to do, and if she so obviously didn't want to, it wasn't his place for him to do it for her, especially since he knew so few details when it came down to it. He tried to keep the explanation of why Giles was no longer needed vague, but it was difficult. Giles wanted to know what was going on, and with good reason.

They didn't talk for long. Xander didn't think he could have. After hanging up he collapsed onto his couch, very aware that Faith had laid there such a short time ago, and struggled to let his mind run down.

He had thought he could help her…he had thought that he WAS helping her. But clearly he wasn't, and he couldn't… was there really nothing he could do? Were his only choices either to continue to watch her destroy herself, or to let her go, knowing it would end in the same results?

He didn't sleep… he couldn't sleep. Eventually his mind drifted into a numb emptiness that was close to it, but it was not true lack of consciousness so much as a lull.

Xander was not sure how much time had passed when his doorbell rang; perhaps he had drifted off at some point after all, for when he sat up, he could see the light dimly filtering through his blinds. Thinking that maybe Giles had come after all, though not understanding why he wouldn't have called first, he stumbled to the door, opening it with a sigh.

Faith stood before him, her head lowered slightly, shoulders hunched. Her hair was tangled, her bangs half covering her cheeks, and her clothes were grass stained, but she appeared uninjured, if very tired. When she raised her eyes to Xander's face, he could tell that she was sober, though she seemed barely able to continue standing for much longer. He wondered briefly if she had just been running, running nonstop, from the moment she left his apartment, to look as tired as she appeared. Even as she attempted a half smile, he could see the exhaustion in every sense of the word heavy in her features, and Xander felt for her as if it were his own.

"You came back," he said softly, not yet backing away from the door, and Faith let her shoulders rise and fall.

"Yep…like a bad penny. Or a boomerang… penny's probably closer though…"

She swallowed, her voice dropping, the attempt at flippancy gone as she spoke again.

"Don't know where else to go."

It wasn't what she said so much as the way she said it…soft, without pretense, without guardedness or anger…that made Xander's heart squeeze, his hope restored. He had to work to keep his smile at her small, so as not to draw attention to the near joy he felt at her words.

"Well, now you do…Faith? Come in."

He stepped back, making room for her to follow, and Faith stepped forward. Reaching for her hand, he waited for her to slowly put it into his, and then Xander drew her with him inside his front door.

The time has changed nothing at all

You're still the only one that feels like home

I've tried cutting the ropes, tried letting go

But you're still the only one that feels like home.

"Ten Days," Missy Higgins


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

As tired as she looked, Faith didn't want to sleep, and Xander could definitely understand that. it was morning by now anyway, and with her back with him now and the sun streaming in his blinds, he wasn't about to attempt sleep either.

This was something that couldn't continue for much longer, he knew. Sure, today was Sunday, and the others would give him slack at the Slayer in training headquarters, his current and probably final workplace, if he called in sick or was too distracted and sleepy to be useful tomorrow. A lot of slack had been given all around since Buffy's death. But he couldn't' function for long on such small and interrupted amounts of sleep, and he was going to have to nap for a while at some point today if at all possible. So far he was still running off of adrenaline and emotional energy pretty well, but Xander doubted that this would last for much longer.

Faith too, he was sure, needed sleep, a truly restful sleep uninterrupted by visions or dreams. He wondered if there was any substance she could take, or any magic that could be worked that would allow her such a thing, or that would at least mute the intensity of her nightmares. But he was skeptical… for one thing, if her dreams were Slayer dreams, messages sent by either Buffy herself or the Powers that Be, then it made sense to him that nothing would block them, that they would continue to be sent because they were needed and meant to be sent. And as much as they were hurting Faith, as much as Xander hated that she had to suffer them, if they were a message of great urgency, then they probably did need to continue… she needed to experience them until they could figure them out and do what was needed.

But if Faith didn't want to sleep, Xander certainly wasn't about to try to make her. He had instead, after leading her inside, kept hold of her hand for several moments, thinking to himself somewhat absently how small and cool it was in his despite its strength, and waited for her to lead the way.

She had pulled her hand away eventually, not nearly as soon as he would have thought, and paced the room once before sinking back to the couch, occupying the position so familiar to them both by now. Leaning back into it, she had let her body sag against it, relaxing, and Xander wondered watching her what she was thinking, what she had been doing that led up to her return to his door.

He gave her a glass of water, offered food, and she drank, ate a package of Pop-Tarts without speaking, without seeming overly aware of what she was consuming. When Xander decided to sit by her, Faith eyed him, but didn't move away, didn't stiffen in her posture. This, paired with how long she had allowed him to hold her hand earlier, made Xander think that Faith didn't mind his proximity…maybe she even wanted it.

When she had finished eating Xander continued to sit near, hoping he wasn't crowding her, and attempted to start a harmless, small talk sort of conversation, knowing that his effort was clumsy and obvious. Faith was having none of it; she barely responded before turning to directly face him, cutting to the chase.

"I know you're wanting to ask why I jumped out your window and what I've been doing and all that crap. Don't want to go there, not now, alright?"

"Okay," Xander replied, startled by her abrupt directness, but nonetheless somewhat relieved to be able to stop tiptoeing around what she'd just threw out before them. "Okay, that's okay."

"And if the next thing on your mind is if I'm still gonna tell Giles…well, yeah, I'll get to it, I know I've got to," Faith plowed ahead, and as gruff as her tone was, Xander could see the reluctance, the faint hints of dread, that showed themselves in her features. "Just, not now, okay?"

"Okay," Xander repeated, nodding slightly, and once more a silence stretched between them. Faith exhaled, shifting her weight, and leaned her head back against the couch so that she was staring up at the ceiling. Xander hesitated, then took another chance, leaning towards her a little.

"Faith? I'm glad you came back."

Faith lifted her head slightly, looking over at him, and shrugged, her voice carefully neutral. "Yeah, well, it's just for a day or two, so don't get too excited over possible shower sightings or whatever."

"I'll try to contain myself," Xander smiled, though it entered his mind as he looked at her that Faith had no other clothes on her other than those she was currently wearing, which were badly in need of washing. She would have to borrow clothes from him, maybe sweats or something- a thought that made Xander's' heart suddenly speed up its beats. It didn't occur to them that she could simply go retrieve her things from her motel room.

Silence resumed itself between them, and Faith took up her loose, sprawled position as usual, her face facing forward, rather than towards Xander at her side. He thought there was some tension to her limbs though now, and it didn't surprise him when she spoke up a few minutes later, her voice stiff.

"Guess they won't be disappointed, huh?"

"What?" he asked, turning to face her, confused. Faith shrugged, not clarifying much more.

"Guess they got what they always thought. Always nice to see that you were right."

"Faith…who's they?" Xander questioned, frowning, and she shrugged, rolling her eyes, as if it were obvious. Even with the sarcastic gesture, however, it was clear from the tension in her jaw that she was bothered by her own words.

"You know, jeez. THEM."

Even though her insistent vagueness spelled out nothing, Xander knew now what she was referring to…Giles, Willow, Dawn… as Faith had referred to them as, THEM. She was convinced that they would judge her in some way, or even get some sort of satisfaction from her current situation…which Xander knew, of course, was not the truth. They might have forgotten her, but they wouldn't smirk or sneer over what she'd been through- not now, not at this stage of their lives. If anything they'd be guilty, concerned, as he was. Didn't Faith know that by now- was she really so stuck in the past, or had her present simply reverted her to it?

"No- no, they wouldn't," he contradicted, shaking his head, meeting her eyes. "Why would you even think that, Faith?"

"Because. It's just the way things are. People like to be right," Faith shrugged, her eyes shifting briefly before she continued, her voice still controlled, but with a growing edge to it. "People like to know what to expect, and Faith the fuck up, Faith who flees, fits right into it."

"NO," Xander insisted, shaking his head, his face earnest, eye locked on Faith's in an attempt to hold her gaze. "No, they don't. Things have changed, Faith, that's not the way things are."

"They don't change that much, Xander," she muttered, and Xander put his hand on her arm firmly, causing he to look over at him quickly, her eyes narrowing.

"It's not true, Faith," he repeated more firmly. "It's not."

He paused, then squeezed her arm, gently but firmly, caringly. When Faith didn't move away, didn't say anything, Xander continued slowly, his voice hesitant but sincere.

"Faith? I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

Her eyebrows knitted slightly, and she shook her head, shaking off the apology in one quick gesture, her eyes averting.

"Don't be, it's not your job to babysit me. Didn't want you chasing me down anyway."

"Maybe not," Xander acknowledged, his voice quiet. "But it should have been done."

He could tell that made Faith uncomfortable. She shifted her weight, an odd look flickering across her eyes before she quickly changed the subject, her voice a little louder than before.

"So, G-Man's in the dark about the Fucked up Files of Faith, or did you give an exclusive when I took off after all?"

Xander knew that Faith knew very well he hadn't revealed more than she was comfortable with to Giles, since he had made sure to tell her that. Still, maybe she needed extra assurance, or simply needed to change the subject as fast as possible. So he obliged her in answering her question.

"No, I didn't tell him anything he didn't already know, Faith. That's up to you. I'll call him whenever you're ready, and you can tell him yourself, whatever you think he needs to know. Okay?"

Faith shrugged, as if it didn't really matter one way or another to her, even though it mattered considerably and they were both aware of this. Xander didn't point this out, letting her have her pretense, flimsy as it might be, if it made her feel better.

"I'm not the only one, you know," she muttered suddenly several moments later, and Xander glanced at her, hearing the defensiveness creeping back into her tone.

"What do you mean? The only one with what?"

"The only screw up," she clarified, her voice only slightly louder, her eyes cutting to his and holding them with some hardness to their surface. "I mean, not trying to let myself off the hook or nothing here. I know the shit I've done, believe me, and I know I'm the worst of everyone. But it's not just me, all the rest of you, you've got your own shit. I'm not the only one."

Xander was a little surprised she didn't start naming names and specifics, but grateful. It wasn't needed. Both of them knew the facts of the past… and she was right. Every one of them had had their times, and it was hardly accurate or fair to act as if this weren't true. And this was something they'd never really acknowledged before, at least, not in front of Faith…

"We know," Xander told her, and he kept his hand lightly on her arm, kept his eye on her face. "And no one thinks that. None of us are perfect, Faith. We know that… might not say it much, but we know. I mean, look who's talking, was anyone ever under the impression that Xander Harris never screws up?"

His tone was joking, but Faith's serious look didn't waver, and she was even scowling faintly as though in deep thought before she spoke again.

"Except B…if you listen to everyone talk, even before all this, before…it…Buffy Summers was the only perfect being to ever walk this planet."

Xander blinked, surprised by the sudden roughness of Faith's tone, the bitter edge to her words. He turned towards her more fully, his brow creasing in confusion as he focused on her.

"Uh…what?"

"Yeah," Faith said, nodding slightly as if he had agreed with her, and continuing, her voice growing faster and more intense as she went on, her features tightening. "I mean come on, think about it. The woman lies to us, uses us, thinks everything she does is the right way, the only way, and if you're not doing it her way you're wrong or bad or evil or a fuck-up or whatever. She can do the exact same thing you did but if she does it, it's okay, she had a good reason or something so it's all five by five for HER, but if anyone else does the same thing, bam, they're WRONG. And we all just let her. Do you realize that, we just let her? We bow down, let her do whatever, because she's Buffy, so she must be right! All hail Saint Buffy- yeah, right! How the hell did this happen?!"

Xander was stricken. Looking at Faith's taut expression, her face flooded with growing anger, seeing her hands form fists at her sides, hearing the rage building in her voice, he could barely comprehend the sudden change. The woman had spent weeks in a state of suicidal despair because of Buffy's death, and her grief for her, among other factors…and now she seemed to strongly resent Buffy, maybe even to hate her, to feel the same way she had back in Sunnydale, back in high school. And it didn't escape his notice that Faith was speaking about Buffy in the present tense, not the past…as if she were still alive, still doing those things Faith accused her of. Xander had no idea what had caused this sudden extreme switchover, but he was stuck in a definite 'huh' state as a result.

"Uh, huh?" he said frankly, and Faith rounded on him, not slowing down in the slightest.

"It's true, you know damn well it is! She lead you on for years, Xander, you know that- she lead everyone on! She lets on like you might mean something to her- lets on like she cares, like anything you say or do matters to her, and then what does she do? She shuts you out, she flips you off and goes and does it her own way because that's all she ever intended to do in the first place! God, she's so damn self-righteous!" Faith nearly yelled, and Xander cautiously spoke up, watching her carefully in case she struck out at him.

"Uh…Faith? Faith-"

"I mean, how the hell can you be so damn arrogant?" Faith interrupted, not seeming to have heard him. In fact, though she was looking directly at Xander, her eyes wide and vivid with feeling, she seemed mostly unaware that he was there. "The girl dies twice, TWICE, and she thinks that means she's totally invincible, she thinks that means she'll never die for good. Oh no, not her, not the great Buffy Summers, she doesn't' even need back-up! She can take on anything and come out alive, and if not, well, it's just temporary, some sap will bring her back again. Bullshit! What, she thought she could go out alone, she thought she could take on that seven foot THING without back up, without anyone, without even TELLING anyone?! And then she's gonna blame it on me. She didn't even tell me, how could I have saved her, how could I have known, I didn't even know! She didn't call me…if she'd have called me, I would have gone, it would have been okay…"

Her voice began to taper off then, the rage in her tone, her posture and face, fading, softening with guilt, with sadness, with a sudden bittersweetness that made Xander keep his hand on her arm, licking his lips unconsciously. He knew then the main crux of her anger and hurt at Buffy amidst her grief and guilt…Buffy could have helped her save her, but she hadn't called. Buffy hadn't asked her to come too.

"I could have saved her," Faith said, her voice much softer, more subdued now, and she stared past Xander, her shoulders falling forward. "But she didn't let me…she didn't call."

Xander didn't know what to say. It felt as if he could form no words at all, and so he said nothing, simply keeping his hand on Faith's arm. She spoke again, a few moments later, her voice smaller, softer, and younger in sound.

"I miss her."

Xander swallowed hard, feeling his sadness- for her, for him, for Buffy, for everything- rise up to choke him, and impulsively he took Faith's hand in his. To his surprise, Faith squeezed it hard, her lids lowering, lips thinning as she swallowed. Encouraged by her response, Xander held her hand for a few moments before slowly moving to put his arm around her shoulders, holding her gently to his side. Again she surprised him by accepting it, responding, even pressing herself more snugly against his torso and hip. He held her, wondering if he should kiss her head or forehead…

And then she thoroughly stunned him by lifting her chin, raising up from him slightly, and covering his lips with her own, kissing him with sudden firmness.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

If you bore me then I'm comfortable, if you interest me I'm scared

My attraction paralyzes me…

Makeup's all off, who am I? The magic's in the makeup…who am I?

"Magic's in the makeup," No Doubt

At first Xander froze, too stunned by what Faith was doing to react, to have any thoughts or reaction to it at all. His mind would not accept Faith's lips against his as reality, as anything other than a wild, vivid flight of imagination, perhaps even a dream.

But when Faith's kissing began to grow more insistent, more aggressive, when she pressed herself against him, breasts flattening against his chest, one hand moving up his arm with firm pressure as she parted his lips with hers, it became quickly clear from his body's knee-jerk reaction that this was no dream. Instinctively Xander's arm circled Faith's shoulders, holding her close against him, and without thinking about it any further he began to kiss her back.

But when her tongue met his, stroking and flicking rapidly with a thrill that to Xander almost made him jolt with the shock of it, the thoughts start pouring in fast. He froze, not pulling away, not actively stopping their encounter, but neither was he contributing very much anymore as the questions pounded at his brain.

Whoa! How was this happening… what? What….why…he hadn't touched Faith like this, he hadn't kissed her like this since Sunnydale, since- what-

But in spite of his confusion, the alarm bells ringing in his head even as his hormones arose wildly, screaming for him to turn them off and forget them… in spite of all this, it was Faith who pulled back. She had strayed away from his mouth with her lips, and nearly straddling Xander, almost entirely in his lap, she had begun to kiss him with hot breath and slightly wet, sucking gestures along his jaw, trailing down toward his neck. As soon as the warm flesh of her mouth touched his neck, Xander heard himself gasp, loudly, involuntarily… a gasp that was not entirely of passion or lust, but also of shock…maybe even a hint of panic. Hearing this, Faith's movements halted, and Xander knew that she was beginning to think about and realize what she was doing…

And she was remembering. The last time this had happened… the last time Faith had touched Xander's neck, had straddled him passionately… she had choked him, nearly killed him.

With a sharp cry, Faith scrambled away from Xander, going to stand across the room, as if to get as far away from him as possible. She stood rigidly, her eyes wild, wide with intense emotions approaching panic, and Xander could see her shaking slightly as she shook her head vehemently.

"Oh fuck," she muttered, then louder, more feeling to it, "oh FUCK….Xander, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, god, I'm sorry-"

"It's okay," Xander said quickly, though he didn't know if it was, was still subtly trying to breathe normally, and he could still feel her lips on the skin of his throat. He stood, meaning to go to her, but the look in her eyes at his approach made him rethink that decision.

"No it's not," she countered, shaking her head again, and her voice was a little louder, slightly higher than normal. "Why the fuck did I…shit. SHIT…"

She shook her head again, as if she were denying what had happened, or else was attempting to clear out her thoughts. Seeing the agitation seeming to radiate out from her, Xander worried she would leave, though she too now seemed nearly frozen. He stayed still, trying to reassure her with his voice and eye.

"It's okay, Faith. It's okay…it's not a big deal, it's not-"

At that, Faith laughed loudly, sounding harsh, almost as if she were choking. She looked at him with both disbelief and amusement plain in her gaze as she shook her head again.

"Not to YOU. Of course it's not to YOU, it's probably what you were hoping for the whole time. Even if you didn't know it, you gotta admit, it's what you were after, wasn't it?"

Xander blinked, his mouth opening slightly, and he quickly shook his head, protesting her claim…even as a part of him wondered if what she said was accurate.

"Of course not, Faith, of course it wasn't. That isn't what I was thinking- I wasn't-"

"Xander, come on," Faith interrupted, and though there was amusement plain in her tone still, there was also tension, some agitation, and continued unbelief. "No guy, even you, does what you've been doing for me without some part of him being hoping to be rewarded with thank you sex."

Xander didn't know how to react to that. He was totally confused as he stared at her, feeling as though something were missing in what he was hearing and understanding, as if some important connection had not been made. He was still having a hard time following Faith from sad and subdued to raging to apparently horny, and now with this accusation that held no truth to it- he was pretty sure it had not truth to it, anyway- he didn't know how to respond to her.

"That isn't true," he said finally, hoping that any doubts about what he was saying wouldn't show themselves in his face when she looked at him. "Faith, that's not true. That's not what I was thinking, it's not what I want. Besides, weren't you the one that kissed me?"

"Didn't exactly hear you screaming in horror about it, since you were so busy kissing me back," Faith retorted, her voice rising, and Xander held up a hand in surrender, exhaling, trying to explain what he wasn't sure he understood.

"Okay, I'll give you that… I wasn't expecting it, but that doesn't mean I was thinking about it, or that it was my goal all along or something, or that I was picturing you in your underwear or something-"

Oooh bad move, because the second the words left his mouth it was nearly impossible not to do exactly what he'd just proclaimed to have not been doing. No doubt Faith knew this, for she chuckled dryly, crossing her arms, still keeping a tense distance between them.

"Don't' have to go on the defensive, just a fact. And I fucked it up, giving you what you're going for, even though I know, I fuckin' KNOW-"

She cut herself off abruptly, her face stiffening, and Xander could see that she was clinching her jaw, as though in effort to keep back some onslaught of thought or feeling. She was turning toward the door, and Xander's heart leapt as he spoke quickly, trying to defuse the situation, to keep her mind from leaving…again.

"Faith- what happened, it's okay. Maybe neither of us were looking for it to happen, maybe it just did, but that's okay. It doesn't have to change anything. We can just go on, okay, we can act like it didn't happen, if that's what you want. You were upset, we were both thinking about Buffy, things…things happen," he fumbled, trying to hold her gaze, trying to keep her attention on him, rather than whatever scattered, panicked thoughts she might be having. "I wasn't going for that, and I'm sorry if I…kinda did…for a second, I didn't mean to. But I'm not mad or anything, and it's not a big deal. We can just move on-"

"I BET you're not mad," she said with heavy sarcasm, eyebrows lifted. "You had me cramming my tongue past your tonsils, why the hell would you be mad?"

Good question…one Xander realized with reddening ears that he'd be wise to ignore.

"I mean it, Faith…let's just keep going, okay? Erase the past five minutes or so…if you want to, if that's what you want, it didn't happen. It's not that it was wrong...and you know, if things were both different, if we both wanted and everything wasn't so crazy now… but it's up to you. If you want, it never happened. I still want you to say…nothing's changed, Faith."

He didn't know if he was suggesting the right thing, or even if Faith wanted it. For all he knew she might take offense, somehow think he was saying she was wrong or something, even though he'd made it quite clear that he didn't mean that. He still didn't know what to make of what had happened between them, in his own thoughts, so reassuring Faith wasn't exactly easy. He kept his eyes on her, hoping that she would believe him…

She eyed him steadily, eyes narrowed, darker than usual, and then sighed, shifting her weight restlessly and looking slightly past him… good signs, Xander thought hopefully, signs that Faith was going to stay. Her voice was more of a mutter directed to herself when she spoke, but Xander was nonetheless relieved to hear her words.

"Think you might even believe yourself. And damn…think I might even believe you, a little…"

She shook her head again, ran a hand through her hair, and spoke a little more loudly now, addressing Xander positively this time.

"I'm gonna be sorry for this later…but since I'm on a roll here of doing shit I'll be sorry for later, might as well keep on with it. Fine, whatever, I'm staying for now. For NOW, okay, not forever, maybe not even tonight, maybe not even for another two hours. So go do it… go call him, before I change my mind."

"Go- what? Call him- you mean Giles?" Xander questioned, and Faith looked at him as if had just asked a very stupid question indeed.

"Yesss, Giles. Gonna stay here this time, just in case. Not like you could stop me, but…"

She shrugged and leaned against the wall, exhaling, her eyes blanking out with deliberate effort. As Xander went to the phone, his mind was still reeling, trying to figure out exactly what was going through Faith's mind- clearly a futile gesture.

* * *

Xander's call to Giles, even more so than it had been the first time, was brief and vague, telling him to come over as quickly as possible. He tried to choose his words in such a way that they would not agitate Faith any further, but she stood with restless stoicism, her face set into determinedly blank lines. Even after he hung up she seemed fidgety, unable to sit still, nor to allow herself to pace about the room. It was as if she were attempting to keep total control of herself in some way, and to do so required a concentration and stillness that expended most of her effort.

Looking at her, Xander wished that Giles would hurry… he knew very well that he approaching situation would be uncomfortable, even painful, and he in no way looked forward to it, but as soon as Giles arrived, they could just get it over with. Even if he somehow doubted that everything would wrap up neatly with no emotional loose ends in the process…god, he hoped this wouldn't blow up in their faces somehow, that Giles would know what was going on, that it would help more than hurt Faith and her situation to recount to him her dream.

And of course, when Giles arrived, it would break up the strain between him and Faith that was obviously present now. And it would give Xander a new direction worry about…

For right now, with the uncomfortable silence between them, Xander's mind had lots of time to run back over what had happened between him and Faith… and his reaction to it, to her.

Thinking back now, he couldn't believe that it had been Faith who had pulled away. What had he been thinking, what had come over him that had made him let her continue, made him unable to put coherent thought to the fact that he knew letting Faith kiss him was not right for that moment? And then his words to her after, his awkward stumbling around in his efforts to reassure her- he was very damn lucky that she was still standing there.

He had told her repeatedly that it wasn't a big deal, that they could pretend it had never happened. But obviously it was a big deal to her…and could they really pretend that? Was it fair to either of them to pretend that?

Xander had assumed that Faith had kissed him because she was sad and lonely, because she wanted physical contact or comfort from someone to take her mind off of Buffy. He had assumed that she would kiss anyone who happened to be there with her at the moment and that she had no romantic interest in him at all, other than in that moment…but what if this weren't entirely true? What if, even just for that brief moment, Faith had wanted to be with him…not just with a body, but with him, Xander? What if she had stopped not because she hadn't really wanted him, or out of guilt for using him, or out of guilt for using him, but from guilt because of Buffy…god, maybe it even because he wasn't Buffy…

That wasn't probably going too far, but without trying to talk about it, how was Xander to know? God…and then when he had reacted to her lips on his neck, the guilt he must have made her feel, in so many different directions…

He wasn't afraid of Faith… well, not really, not at the core of him…not at the core of her. He knew she wouldn't hurt him while consciously able to control it. And Faith needed to know that he knew it too.

"Faith?" he said quietly, and Faith's eyes snapped up. He paused, quickly assessing their expression before continuing. "Faith, I just want to make sure you know… what happened with us, it wasn't wrong. It's not that it was bad, or, we were doing anything wrong… it's just that the timing, it wasn't good, you know? If everything was…well, if you wanted, and I wanted, and we were-"

"Thought it didn't happen," Faith cut him off, her voice a little stiff. She crossed her arms, looking him hard in the eye without amusement or smugness. She was simply flatly stating what Xander had presumably established. "Can't go on and on about something that didn't happen, can you?"

"Okay," Xander said quietly, and though he wanted to say more, though he wanted to apologize, he knew better than to push too hard, when Giles would undoubtedly push her beyond all limits when as soon as he arrived. "If that's what you want, Faith."

He waited almost another minute, but he couldn't keep it inside, couldn't not tell her the last and most important thing on his mind.

"Faith…I know you would never want to hurt me, Faith."

Her eyes widened slightly, and she shot an involuntary and very fast glance at his neck before forcing her eyes up to his. He could see that her jaw was tensed as she replied, her words seemingly a sneer, but he could see the flicker of anxiety standing in her eyes and knew her true thoughts.

"You always were too trusting, Xander."

"Faith-" he started, but the doorbell rang, and she whirled around quickly, her movements betraying her relief even in the face of what she knew was to come.

"Must be Giles… I got it."

As she moved to open the door Xander too started towards it slowly, his thoughts continuing in conflict with one another. Whatever Faith was thinking or feeling, he doubted the arrival of Giles, however it might have saved this conversation, would do anything but bring further strain.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Scold me failed her  
If only I'd held on tighter to her  
Pale white skin that twisted and withered away from me away from me

Watch me lose her  
It's almost like losing myself  
Give her my soul  
and let them take somebody else get away from me

"Strawberry Gashes," Jack off Jill

As soon as he could see Giles's face, it was clear to Xander that the man was concerned- concerned, and guilty. He looked Faith over in the doorway, trying to be discreet about it, but he nevertheless could not hide the disturbance that came to his eyes. Glancing at the brunette quickly, Xander realized that through the eye of someone who had not seen her in two weeks, who was not accustomed to having seen her on and off in the past couple of days, Faith's appearance might indeed be startling. Obviously thinner and paler, her clothes loose, torn, and grass-stained, with her hair unbrushed and dark circles under her eyes, she was in a condition physically that Giles had never before observed in her…except, perhaps, during the time that she had been comatose.

Having grown fairly used to her appearance, neither Faith nor Xander had really thought about it, until Giles's appearance at the door. When Giles quickly smiled, attempting to cover up his shock, Faith stiffened, and she ran a hand through her hair, as if in a self-conscious attempt to tame it.

"Faith," Giles greeted her, and the awkwardness to his tone was fairly obvious, at least to Xander. "It's good to see you. How have you been?"

"Five by five," Faith replied in an almost challenging tone, and Xander realized suddenly that it was the first time he could remember her using the expression since he had found her. He wondered if this meant something, if anything.

"Ah, yes, well, that is good to hear," Giles replied, one hand drifting towards his glasses to touch them subconsciously. "Yes, well, it seems that-"

"Look, let's get straight to this without all the bullshitting in circles, okay?" Faith interrupted, lifting her chin, the defiance in her voice and posture somewhat compromised by the nerves still visible in her restless gestures. "Let's just get this done."

"Yes, very well then, I can understand why you would wish for that," Giles murmured, somewhat taken aback, and as Faith turned, coming into the apartment and allowing him room, he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

As he and Xander quickly smiled at each other, nodding and greeting, Faith stood with impatient fidgety posture, her arms crossed, hurrying them along.

"Okay. You're here. Doing the Watcher probe bullshit or whatever to figure this out…so what do I gotta do?"

"Well, why don't we begin with you sitting down, er, try to make yourself comfortable," Giles suggested, and Faith gave a dry laugh, her way of expressing sarcasm at the very thought. "And then you can simply tell me about the dreams you have been experiencing. You told Xander that you believe them to be Slayer dreams, is that correct, Faith?"

He sat in Xander's recliner, and Faith hesitated before sitting on the couch. Having nowhere else to sit but beside her, if he didn't want to continue standing or sitting on the floor, Xander did so, making sure to keep a distance between them. Faith glanced at him, her body tensed, but when she didn't ask him to move or tell him that she wanted to talk to Giles in private, Xander figured that it was okay for him to stay. As much as he was sure that he would not enjoy hearing Faith's description, he felt he needed to know what she had been seeing, exactly… and he needed to be present while she talked about it, just in case she needed his support.

"Yeah," Faith said in response to Giles's addressal, shrugging, and she cracked her knuckles, eyes turned away, as though she needed to occupy her hands with doing something to allow for movement even while sitting. Xander knew that knuckle cracking was a huge annoyance of Giles's from his own personal experimentation, but other than a momentary flicker of a grimace, the older man ignored it, his eyes focused on Faith's face as he frowned slightly.

"And you believe this because what occurs during them…their frequency or intensity…the vividness of detail…"

"E, all of the above," Faith responded a little edgily, and she popped the last knuckle, stretching and flexing her fingers as she glanced up at Giles's face, the tension in hers all too noticeable. Xander had an urge to take her hands in his, but a quick memory of their kissing fiasco flashed into his mind, and he remained quiet, keeping his hands to himself.

"How often do they occur?" Giles was asking next, and for the first time Xander noticed that he had taken out a pen and pad of paper and was jotting down notes. If Faith noticed she gave no sign of it, or perhaps she simply didn't care. She spoke in a low, tight voice, as if it were an effort for her to speak, or perhaps an effort to speak calmly, without anger, sarcasm, or sadness in some form.

"Every night… or whenever I sleep. Whenever…every time."

Giles's eyebrows rose, and he looked considerably more concerned by her response, try as he might to conceal it, as he jotted down this reply. Faith's hands were unconsciously picking at her cuticles now, and she lifted her eyes to his face, but they were focused on some area around Giles's ear rather than his eyes. Giles cleared his throat, and the soft reluctance in his voice revealed his unwillingness to ask his next question, as well as to hear her reply to it.

"And these…dreams…in these dreams, Faith…you see Buffy die. You, you see the creature that killed her?"

His question hung in the air for several moments, and all were horribly uncomfortable in that time…and filled with a dread of the words they knew would be soon in coming.

Faith shifted her weight, swallowed, and then exhaled loudly, nodding, her answers emerging a little more loudly then before, almost defiantly. She met Giles's gaze with determined near hostility in her expression.

"Yes…YES. Look, what do you want me to say here… tell me what you want to know 'cause I just want to say it and be done with it, alright?"

"I can understand that, Faith," Giles said quietly, putting down his pen for a moment to return her gaze. "And we will try to accomplish that for you. But in order to establish the meaning behind your dreams, and in order to be able to do what is needed so that you can stop experiencing them, I will need to know every detail of them that you can recall. If you would like to begin now by simply relaying your dream, every part you can remember, it would be very helpful, and it would end this conversation as quickly as possible."

His words were gentle, factual, not intended as a reprimand or anything like that, but Faith flinched as if he had screamed at her, and her shoulders drew up sharply, her words slightly halting.

"Just talk about it… all of it? You just want me to talk about it?"

"Well, yes," Giles replied, and his tone was slightly perplexed, as if he didn't know what else she could possibly think he meant. "Yes, just talk about it, s much detail as you can remember. Even seemingly insignificant details may be very important."

"You make that sound so fuckin' easy," Faith muttered under her breath, and she took a deep breath, glancing up at Giles again, her face already guarded in expression. "Fine…look, if I'm doing this, you can't interrupt me, all right, 'cause I don't know if I could pick up again if you stop me. I'm gonna say this once, ONE TIME, so you better listen, this is all you're gonna get. Not saying this again…don't know if I can this time, so just, just back off a while, alright?"

She took another sharp breath in, her eyes closing briefly, head dipping forward, and as her hands moved to grip her knees, Xander heard her hiss a soft string of swear words to herself under her breath. He was leaning towards her, nearly holding his own breath when she began to speak.

"We're…we're slaying. Patrolling. Me and B, I mean…Buffy. We…it's night, and there's a lot of stars out. The moon. Crescent moon. It's quiet…it's, you know, it's just normal at first, it's just, like, it's just normal, we're just there…"

Faith paused, her voice faltering slightly, and she cleared her throat, her hands squeezing at her knees. She didn't look at either Giles or Xander, instead, fixing her eyes on some spot on the wall past Giles as she continued, her voice low, nervous, and still stumbling to clarify herself in her sentences.

"Uh, it's just us. At first. Her hair's down, and I have on jeans and boots and a black tank, and she's got on a white long-sleeved shirt and red pants. I like her pants, they're pretty wicked. And we're talking…"

She paused again, inhaling slowly, and Xander glanced at Giles, taking in his reaction. Giles had seen Buffy's body after she had died… and based on the intensity of his features, the way he unconsciously thinned his lips, Faith's description of her clothes was accurate. There was no way that she could have known that…if she had not been there, and if no one had described Buffy's clothing to her when informing her of the other Slayer's death- which surely they hadn't- then this could only mean with more certainty than they had possessed before that the dream was indeed a deliberate message to Faith of some kind.

"We, we're walking down a main street, with a bunch of stores, I think the older downtown part here, you know what I mean," Faith continued, rubbing her temple unconsciously for a moment before looking up again, still determinedly past Giles rather than at him. "And talking…like, just screwing around, right…um…I'm teasing her. Saying all the big bads are out in hiding tonight, because they know better than to mess with us…plus her scrawny ass isn't worth the trouble of kicking."

Her voice was taut at that part and her cheeks flushed. She gripped her knees harder, though whether in embarrassment, shame, or because of the obvious difficulty she was having in recounting this, Xander didn't know. Again he licked his lips, wanting to touch her, but he held himself still. Giles's forehead was creasing more deeply as he continued to jot notes, letting Faith go on.

"And, and she hits me, but, it's like, playful, not really hurting. And she's smiling… I, I say she was manhandling me…ask if she was trying to make up for the lack of demons. B, she says, she says, 'Here we come, the Chosen Twos, and all the baddies hit the snooze.' Rhyming, like…and so, I, I laugh, and I call her a dork, and I say, I say…I call out… 'Come out, come out, wherever you are…"

Faith stopped here for a moment, and the anguish freshly shining in her eyes, paling her skin and tensing her features and posture, made Xander's stomach tighten painfully. He knew what was coming… and judging by the look on Faith's face, the clear self-condemnation she had shown numerous times in his presence, he could guess what she must be feeling. It had been she who invited the demon that killed Buffy… she who called it out. It was only a dream, not reality, it was not entirely accurate as to what had really happened… but how easy was it to forget that when you see the same scene repeated over and over, both in waking hours, in memory, and in your sleep?

The concern in Giles's face was increasingly stronger as Faith continued, as well as the level of his dread at what must be coming. But as Faith had requested, he didn't speak, didn't try to stop her… and Xander, as much as it pained him to listen, didn't either. With what he knew would be the worst part of her story approaching, he was tempted to leave the room, but he couldn't do that. He wouldn't. If Faith could see it night after night, he would listen to her recount it once… and with a gentleness he hoped wouldn't' distract her or agitate her too much, he covered one of her hands, still tightly clamped on her knee, with his.

She didn't look at his hand, barely seemed to feel it. She continued with great difficulty, her voice low, intense, stumbling at first, but then growing louder, increasing in volume and emotion as her eyes glittered with very controlled, held back tears.

"So, I say that, and, and they do. A bunch of vampires just all come running out from this alley… like a gang, or something. Six or seven I think… I don't know…they shout something to us, something about the Slayers, and killing us. I know I've heard it a hundred times but, but I don't remember, I'm sorry, I don't remember. They, we start to fight them, hitting, kicking, and, and we're doing good, we're doing alright, we're kicking some ass you, you know? And we're dusting them, we get them all, and I get my last one, and B gets hers… it's, it's a real rush, you know, and it's like, synchronized slaying, like we used to, like we've been doing. Were doing…shit, like we WERE doing. What the fuck…god…so…so…okay…so, it's fun. That's the thing, we're having FUN. And we're done, we think it's over, there's no more vamps, so, she turns her head…she, she looks at me, and she smiles…she…she SMILES…"

Faith's voice cracked at this last word, and she began to tremble, her eyes dropping. She took in several sharp breaths, knuckled a tear roughly from her eye before it fell. Xander could hear his own heart thudding and could nearly convince himself that it was hers. A lump nearly obscuring his breathing, he squeezed the hand he was covering, trying to provide tangible support to her, a physical reminder that she was not caught up in the events that she was so torturously describing.

But she was…anyone listening could have been able to tell that Faith was seeing it all again in her mind, nearly re-experiencing it just from her own memory. She wasn't even trying to hide her distress anymore, was probably not capable of doing so. Her head lowered, her words coming out in a voice higher and more clearly upset, nearly distraught, than either man was used to or comfortable with hearing from her, she struggled on.

"And it comes, right behind her. She doesn't see it, she doesn't, she doesn't know… I see, but I can't say, I can't warn her, I'm too slow, and it's so fast… it…it's so big, seven, seven feet maybe, and, and dark…scales…claws, claws on its feet, and, its eyes, they're, they're black, all of it's black, and it, has arms…like…tentacles…but, but spikes… it goes…it…it st-stabs her…right through her. Right through her chest…right…right through her h-heart…"

Faith's words were barely understandable now, as shaky and high-pitched as they emerged from her. Her breathing was coming so quickly that it was almost in hitches, she was nearly hyperventilating, and tears began to make their way down her cheeks, settling into her lap and collarbone. She appeared remarkably like Xander had seen her while in the grips of her nightmares, only she was very still now, not fighting or lashing out, not screaming…simply recounting, simply in considerable pain, but there was nothing simple or insignificant about it to any of the three present.

"She…she just looks at me…like, like she's in sh-shock… she…they get all big, her eyes, and she, her mouth opens…blood. There's blood coming out of it, and, and she's, she's choking, she can't… she can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't move, she's dying, she sees me, and she, she, she tries to talk to me, she…she's m-making these sounds, and I can't…I didn't…I didn't save her, I can't do anything, fucking ANYTHING, and I scream. I just scream…"

Her words cut off now, and Faith just sat, shaking, struggling to even out her breathing, to fight back the tears still occasionally escaping. His heart painfully heavy in his chest, physically, emotionally, and mentally sickened by what he had heard, by the visions passing vividly before his eyes, Xander pried Faith's hand from her knee, squeezing her fingers in his. When she squeezed back painfully, he gritted his teeth against it without complaining, entirely speechless. What could he possibly say in face of that?

Giles too appeared paler than usual, stunned, his eyes wide and very disturbed behind his glasses… and full of a guilt and pity Faith did not look up to see. He closed the pad, one hand stretching out toward her almost helplessly, as if he wanted to touch her, comfort her, and didn't dare, didn't know if he could.

"Faith…Faith, I am sorry. I…"

"You better fuckin' figure it out fast," she snapped suddenly, and she met his expression with hers narrowed, her voice fierce, even as tears remained standing in her eyes, were still damp on her cheeks. "I hope you got all you fuckin' need, 'cause I'm through. No way in fucking hell do I do this again."

"No, of course not," Giles assured her, shaking his head, and he cleared his throat, touching his glasses, and lowering his eyes briefly before looking back at her, still shaken. "Faith….thank you, Faith, I, I know that must have been-"

"Need a shower," Faith said abruptly, tearing her eyes away, and she pulled her hand from Xander's, standing and striding towards his bedroom door. Xander stood quickly too, remembering her last Houdini routine through his window and concerned that an encore might occur in her current mindset.

"Faith…Faith, are you sure-"

"Not gonna run, Xan, just need a fuckin' shower and some fuckin' space, okay?" she said roughly, without turning to face him. He saw her knuckle another tear away hastily as she remained facing the door. Xander swallowed, his stomach knotting, and nodded, letting her go…the last thing he wanted at the moment.

"Okay…Faith? Towels are in the closet…shirts and sweats in my drawers."

She gave a jerky nod before opening the door, slamming it behind her, and Xander simply watched, his heart beating fast, even as the pain it felt for her threatened to cripple it entirely.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Hold me now

I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking

Maybe six feet ain't so far down

Sad eyes follow me, but I still believe there's something left for me

So please come stay with me

"One last breath," Creed

Giles didn't stay for long after Faith escaped to Xander's shower to collect herself. There were several awkward exchanges between him and Xander as both men attempted to avoid each other's eyes, to avoid speaking the dark thoughts that Faith's words had set so heavily upon their minds. They didn't want to give voice to their worry for her, their guilt and concern over her, their shock at the intensity of what she had been experiencing so vividly night after night…something that even with their detailed knowledge of it, they could never truly know what it was like to experience. They were both sickened, both despairing and disturbed by what they had just heard, wishing to help even as neither wanted to think anymore about what had happened, what they now knew. Neither had known what to do or say to Faith… and now that she had left, they didn't know what to say or do for each other.

Less than five minutes passed before Giles decided to leave, thanking Xander for telling him to come over and assuring him that he would immediately get to work researching. As Xander had nodded, bidding him goodbye, the older man had stopped, turning to look him in the eye, and had spoken quietly but seriously, his grey eyes sincerely focused.

"Thank you for looking out for her, Xander…she needs those like you in her life. She is quite lucky to have you…as are we all."

With that rare compliment bringing a somewhat stunned flush to his cheeks, Xander had turned back to his apartment thinking over the entire morning's events. As was usual lately, he didn't know where he should go next, so he opted to dress and wait for Faith's emergence from the shower as to cues.

He was more glad than ever now that she was with him for the moment, that he could watch her, be there for her. However short a time it might last, it was growing more and more obvious to him that this wasn't just something she needed… it was something that Xander needed too. Now was not a good time to think about himself and Faith in any way other than separately, but Xander couldn't help but wonder- maybe even hope- that their relationship to each other was strengthening, or maybe had simply been stronger than they had realized all along. It was dangerous to think that way, for Faith was still so unpredictable in her decisions, emotions, and reactions. He knew he probably shouldn't get used to her being around, for she could take off at any moment. Even if she stayed for a while, until this whole dream mess was figured out, she would still have to leave eventually. But a part of him couldn't seem to help but let his mind wander in this direction, even now, even after what had just occurred.

And maybe that was why his mind was wandering, maybe it was showing some desperate bid for freedom from the terrible images Faith had burned into his memory, the memory he now had of the intense pain twisting her features, the anguish distorting her voice…

Faith didn't emerge from his bathroom until nearly an hour later. By then she appeared fully composed, if still somewhat tense and abrupt in her movements, and she wasted no time in heading for his front door. Her hair still damp, hanging down her back, clad only in Xander's very baggy t-shirt and sweatpants and her own boots in a simultaneously nearly laughable yet strangely sexy combination, she called out to him over her shoulder as she opened the door.

"Going out. Be back later."

Xander didn't like the extremely ambiguous sound of that, but he knew very well by this point that trying to stop her would be a lost cause. Instead he got up quickly, snagging his spare apartment key from a drawer in the coffee table. Calling her name, he tossed it to her when she turned her head.

"It's my spare key… if I'm out when you come back, or if I don't hear you knock, just let yourself in, okay?"

Faith paused, glancing up at him briefly, and Xander thought she knew the significance of what he was saying. He was telling her, in essence, that he trusted her. Trusted her with his key, trusted her to leave, trusted her to be able to take care of herself without him watching her every move and rescuing her from her own self… and most of all, that he trusted her word to him, trusted her to return. Giving her the key was no small thing, and the sudden seriousness in Faith's eyes told him that she knew this.

"Okay," she replied, nodding slowly. "Thanks."

She left then, and though Xander was still worried, he wasn't' overly so. She knew where to find him…she knew she was still wanted, still welcome, and he had her word. Now he had to have the faith, no pun intended, that this would be enough.

He decided to head over to the Slayers' headquarters to meet with some of the junior Slayers, to catch up on what he had missed over the past few days and to plan ahead for his work tomorrow, if all panned out. Xander checked in again with Willow and Dawn, called Giles to see if he had made any progress in his research- he had not yet- and checked into his apartment once to see if Faith had returned. She had not, and when he returned home for good in the early evening, she still was absent.

He tried not to worry, though admittedly this was a rather difficult prospect. By this point Xander was rather exhausted, between the events of today and the sleep deprived nights preceding it, and when he changed into sweats and a t-shirt rather similar to the ones Faith had borrowed and climbed into his bed to watch TV in his room, he soon drifted off to sleep.

He wasn't sure what time it was that he was awakened to the sound of someone opening and shutting his bedroom door a little loudly, but it felt to him as if it were several hours later. Though he was somewhat groggy and disoriented as he sat up, squinting into the darkness, Xander felt as if he were at least a little more rested than he had been before. At first he couldn't understand just what had awakened him until his eyes adjusted, and he saw the figure standing by the entrance to his room. He reached, still squinting, to turn on the lamp beside his bed, and he could finally see for sure that the person present in his room was Faith.

"Faith," he said, his voice raspy with sleep. "Hey…you okay?"

He couldn't think of any other reason that she would be standing in his bedroom, other than that she wasn't. Okay, well, he could, but he wasn't gonna go there now…

He sat up further, trying to focus on her more fully. She didn't seem drunk to him, or injured; she merely looked hesitant, almost shy…pensive was a word that came to his mind, sad, in a soft way that was very rare for her to show and for Xander to see. He frowned, becoming more alert as he looked her over. Was something wrong? Why else would she just be standing there… did she need something, had something happened?

When Faith didn't say something immediately, he repeated the question, pushing at his blanket and sheet as if in preparation to get up and go to her if it was needed.

"Faith, you okay? You-"

"Yeah," she said quickly, nodding, and for a split second before Faith replied a sudden, slightly stunned awareness had flitted across her features, as if she had mentally shaken herself out of a deep reverie. Her eyes darkened once more, and she nodded again, exhaling. "Yeah… five by five. Did I wake you up? Sorry…didn't think you'd be sleeping so early."

"It's okay," Xander told her, and he meant it. Now that she was back, he felt very much awake and aware. He wanted to know where she had been all day, what she'd been doing…he wanted to know /how/ she was doing. She seemed sober, if somewhat subdued, and because she was so uninjured from what he could see of her, this was a very encouraging sign.

He didn't ask her, not yet, however. He only said quietly, questioning more than stating, "You used the key I gave you to get in?"

She nodded, remaining standing in his doorway, in a manner that seemed both awkward and stiff, nearly painfully polite, as if she were reluctant to intrude over delicate boundaries, to put herself where she might be unwelcome… and also poignant, almost hopeful. Xander could not discern all of this simply by watching her, but he saw the confliction in her eyes even in the dim lighting and sensed that this moment held some meaning for her that he could not entirely understand. He nearly held his breath, waiting.

"Sorry I woke you," Faith repeated, and then said in a slightly lower tone, her eyes fixed on him seriously, "I told you I'd come back."

He r words hung there for several moments, conveying a deeper meaning that Xander sensed but could not fully interpret, still. But he knew one thing, as he looked back at Faith across the small distance of both room and hearts… he knew now that she trusted him, or was trusting him now, maybe for the first time. And something in her aura seemed to be asking for him to trust her too, for him to acknowledge that she could one day do enough, be enough, to earn it.

"I'm glad you did," Xander said simply yet sincerely, and his words too lingered in the silence that fell, almost solid before them… an extension of that trust, an offering.

When Faith continued to stand, still making no move to either leave the room or to come closer to him, Xander gestured towards her slightly, inclining his head towards the space beside him in his double bed.

"Faith…why don't you come sit down?"

When her eyes moved from the empty spot beside him to his face, suspicion beginning to spark in her gaze, Xander shook his head, holding up a hand against the thoughts he predicted she was probably having.

"Not like that, no hanky-panky business, promise. Just…it's a lot more comfortable to sit on a bed than to stand across the room from me if you want to talk or anything. And, well, if you don't want to talk, the TV's at a better angle from the bed too."

When Faith hesitated for a few moments longer, frowning, perhaps recalling the loss of hanky-panky control from earlier that day, Xander put on a teasing smile.

"We can put an imaginary line down the middle and keep to our own sides if you want. Look, seriously Faith, you don't have to, I don't want to push you into anything you don't want to do. If you want to go to sleep or whatever, you can have the couch again, or I can take it, and you can have my bed. I just thought if you didn't want to sleep yet, my bed's more comfortable to be on than standing up is, is all."

Another few moments passed, and then Faith wordlessly walked over to the empty side of Xander's bed, climbing onto it. At first she simply sat on it cross-legged, still somewhat awkwardly, almost stiffly. When Xander offered her one of his pillows, however, she gave in, leaning back against the headboard beside him, straightening her legs out in front of her, and pulling the blanket over her torso to cover her.

It was quiet between them for some time, and Xander used the opportunity to give himself fierce lectures about exactly what he could and couldn't do or think in the moment. This wasn't exactly an easy situation for him, however casual about it he had strived to seem to Faith. Yes, she was just sitting there…but she was sitting there, in his BED with him. Under the covers with him… wearing his shirt, his sweats… in only the light from his lamp…at night…just them. And they were close enough that if one of them moved even a little, their shoulders, arms, or legs brushed each other…

For Xander, however else he might try to play it off, and however much he might not want it to be, it was undeniably a sexy experience. To top it off with the fact that since Anya, he had not shared a bed with another woman even platonically, even once…he knew he better keep total control of himself and his thoughts if he wanted to keep her from realizing them, for something told him that Faith didn't want to think that he was having them, however beyond his control they might be.

Faith sighed, and it seemed to Xander that she had shifted herself just a little closer to him…yep, her shoulder wasn't just occasionally brushing his now, it was in full, total, and constant contact, pressed lightly against him. Xander slid his gaze to her, wanting to ask her again if she was okay, but the pensive crease in her brow, the far away look in her eyes, made him hesitate. Faith spoke up herself before he could say anything, her words slow, holding some embarrassment in their tone, but nevertheless cast out into the open.

"This…not used to this shit…never have been." She gestured vaguely with one hand, seeming with that ambiguous movement to encapsulate everything- their position beside each other, their words to each other, her return, everything that had occurred since Xander first came to her in her motel room. Though Xander wasn't sure if she was referring to anything specific or not, he got the gist of what she meant and nodded, finding himself very aware of her shoulder against his.

"That's okay," he told her quietly, but Faith shook her head, contradicting his words firmly, though not loudly or angrily.

"No…no, it's not, Xander… it's really kinda not. This isn't… none of this is supposed to be…"

She sighed again, her hand lifting in an almost helpless gesture before she let it fall again, shaking her head slowly. Xander felt her hair brush his face and held still, trying to ignore the quick thrill that the brief tickling sensation of it against his skin gave him.

"That's kinda the point of all this, isn't it," she said softly, her voice slightly huskier even than her usual contralto tone. "That none of this is anywhere on the map of okay."

"You've got a point there," Xander told her, and he let his gaze turn towards her slowly as he wondered whether he dared touch her more fully, to up the physical contact between them. He wondered if he should put his arm around Faith, or take her hand. She didn't seem actively upset right now, so much as wistful, maybe tired mentally, more so than physically. But maybe it was better to let her lead the way for now… he'd already asked her to sit with him on the bed. From this point, maybe closer contact, more personal displays of affection towards her, however platonically they might be intended, should be initiated by Faith, or given to her only if she asked for them.

And why was he thinking so hard and earnestly about this right now…why was his mouth suddenly a little dry, his heart beating just a little faster than normal?

"I hate this," Faith said suddenly, and Xander looked over at her again, paying closer attention. Her brows were drawn together slightly, her forehead wrinkling as she frowned, her features showing disturbance, even uneasiness and faint embarrassment more than anger. He couldn't help but notice that she was pressed even more closely against him now, her body tense…it wasn't just her shoulder against his now but also her hip, her leg, her arm, the warm solidness of her form close to his making him swallow subtly.

"All of this..everything. Living this, doing this, being this…I hate it," Faith continued softly, her voice dropping, her dark eyes staring before her, fixed on Xander's blank TV screen without really seeming to see it. "It's not me…not what I was, anyway. Not what I should be…not what I want to be."

Xander had no way to be sure what she meant. Whether she was referring to her drunken, promiscuous, self-destructive behavior of before, her multiple occasions of running from both her problems and the help that was offered to her to face them, the fact that she had problems or was grieving at all, or simply the fact that she was gradually opening up to him, gradually letting him see her vulnerability…he couldn't be sure which, if any, that Faith was talking about, and maybe she meant all of them at once. But regardless of the specifics of what she meant, he knew the correct response, clichéd as it might be, and he spoke it gently, hoping to soothe.

"Faith…it's okay. Whatever you feel, whatever you think or want…it's okay."

He expected a sarcastic response, expected her to laugh at him dryly, to refute his soft reassurance. Instead she sighed, shaking her head for the third time…and stunned him by suddenly settling herself more fully and deliberately against his side. She didn't hug him, didn't straddle him or attempt to climb into his lap, didn't kiss him or fondle him, or try to get him to do the same to her. She simply burrowed her herself against his side, reminiscent of a small child, seeking comfort from an adult's sheltering arm, and rested the side of her head against his shoulder. As she spoke again somewhat gruffly, the edginess of her tone belied her gestures, but was undercut with a slight shakiness that Xander heard despite her efforts.

"This isn't me, alright…so don't make a big thing out of it, okay. 'Cause it's not…it's not really me."

Still unsure what she was talking about, though he now suspected the fact that she was practically snuggling against him, seeking out the comfort of physical contact with him, might have at least a little something to do with it, Xander nodded, giving the only response he could think of again.

"I know…Faith, it's okay."

He wondered again briefly where she had been, what she'd been doing while she was gone that caused her to return in such a mood, but it didn't seem right to ask. It didn't seem right for him to talk at all, except in response to what she was saying to him. Slowly, carefully Xander wrapped an arm around Faith's shoulders, the one closest to her, having to adjust her against him in order to so do. When she didn't stiffen or comment, didn't try to pull away, but instead leaned more fully and comfortably into him, her head against his shoulder, he dared to wrap his other arm around her as well, holding her even more securely.

For some time neither spoke, simply sitting, as if afraid to somehow spoil what had just happened, to in some way break the physical and emotional closeness of the moment. When Faith began to talk, her voice was nearly a whisper, though she had not planned this; at the time, it seemed the only appropriate volume.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"Try to say goodbye and I choke

Try to walk away and I stumble

Though I try to hide it, it's clear

My world crumples when you are not near"

Macy Gray, "I try"

"I wish things had been different… there are so many things I could have done better, you know? So many things WE could have done different. If I hadn't been such a screwy little bitch back then… if both of us had actually looked at each other and tried to get each other, tried to see where the other was coming from instead of just what we felt and thought…never worked like that with us though, huh?"

Faith sighed again, moved her head slightly against his shoulder, and Xander listened closely. She must be talking about him… how she felt about him, about what had happened- what was happening- between them. But she couldn't really feel that way about him..not really…could she?

"Thing is, I think the problem is we felt the same things, thought the same things, but we didn't want to think so…you know, we're really alike, when you get down to it. I mean, yeah, of course not totally, because, just, duh, look at us…but at the core…we're more alike than different. No one would think it, but I get that now," Faith continued softly. "But we hurt each other, and you know how that went…and I know, it was mostly my fault. I know. But we BOTH hurt each other…and that, that's kinda hard to heal."

Xander frowned, trying to remember. What had he done to hurt Faith? He hadn't realized that he had…or that he had meant enough to her at any point in their past to really wound her with anything he did or said. He thought back quickly as he kept his arms around her, trying to remember. Maybe when she first returned to Sunnydale, after being in prison, his attitude towards her… or maybe what had passed between them back when they were still just kids, before she began to flirt with villainy, or maybe even when she was at her most amoral. But Xander had always been pretty nice to her, hadn't he? Of course he had, she was a new, hot girl who had no qualms about flirting with him or anyone else. A new hot Slayer girl, at that. Hell, she had been the new hot Slayer girl he had lost his virginity to. Even after she had started down the bad path he wanted to help her.. so what could he have done to hurt her? It wasn't like she'd liked him or anything…

Unless she had…was it possible that she HAD? Could Faith have really liked him, back then, like THAT… did she really like him now? Was that why she was telling him this, why she was trusting him slowly but increasingly, why she was even now leaned heavily against him, letting him hold her in his arms? It seemed too incredible to be true, but what else could she be implying here? Hadn't she just proclaimed to Xander that she loved him, that she was struggling with how she felt about him? Maybe that's how he had hurt her, by not loving her or trying to love her even after she had tried to kill him, twisted as that logic was.

Xander tried to contain the sudden excitement coursing through him, the adrenaline that began to pulse quickly in his veins with enough intensity to make him very aware of his pounding heart, the sensation of his own body and Faith's so close to it. Faith was talking again, and he made himself pay attention to her, realizing suddenly that he hand he had resting on her shoulder was rubbing its thumb gently across the surface of her skin, through her shirt.

"I mean, after I come back, it was rocky at first, you know that…but, you know, it's always been that way with us, no surprise there right? But after cratering out Sunnydale…after making all the Slayers, and setting up headquarters and us both being so involved with everything…I thought we were five by five. I mean, we SEEMED cool, some of the time anyway…like…god, almost like friends…to me, even if not to us both. We, really, we were getting there, we were almost friends, REALLY friends. And I thought…I thought, just a little longer, a few more times, and we might…we might even get to be more. Not just a few incidents here and there, that we both tried to forget or pretend never happened, but always, but…"

Faith trailed off, letting out a long, slow breath, and she moved her head against Xander's shoulder, her cheek brushing him gently. Xander lifted his hand to rest it carefully on her head, holding it to him, almost cradling it, as he might have supported the head of an infant. Still he was thinking rapidly, his thoughts attempting to sort out what she was so openly at last saying to him. He'd had no idea that Faith felt that way…it stunned him to the point of near speechlessness that Faith had felt that way, and that she felt comfortable enough to tell him now. Was that why she had run from him, so many times… was that why she had resisted his help and showing of caring, because she was afraid of what she felt?

Faith had liked him…Faith had WANTED him…from what she seemed to be saying, for years. YEARS…and all this time Xander hadn't seen it, would never have guessed. Probably the hottest, most kick-ass, overtly sexy girl he'd ever met had been secretly pining for HIM, Xander…worried that HE, Xander, would reject her!

This was insane…this was absolutely too preposterous to be true. How could it be true….and yet here she was saying it… saying it after kissing him, after crawling into bed with him, after practically demanding he put his arms around her while she told him…

And Xander…did he feel the same? Of course he was attracted to her, had been since day one, when she was-what, fifteen, sixteen? Of course he cared about her, maybe even loved her…but did he love Faith in the same way that she was talking about? Did he love her like she seemed to love him….like she needed him to love her, from what it seemed?

Xander didn't know…this was all too sudden, too soon to know. But he thought he could grow to do so…he thought he could grow to a point where he could.

He wondered if he should kiss her, to use a physical reassurance to convey to her that her feelings were okay, that he wasn't freaked out by what she was saying. Well, not in a bad way, anyway. But he decided it was better to just let her talk, let her say whatever she needed to, and he continued to lightly hug Faith to his side in silence, waiting for her to resume speaking, to ask him for his thoughts. He hoped that when and if she did, he would be recovered enough to speak coherently.

"I mean, we never did anything…well, not really," she began suddenly again, her words low, with an undercurrent of sadness he detected even in the raspy tone. She stared ahead, one hand splayed across his chest, gripping his shirt, so that Xander was sure she could feel his heartbeat going rapidly beneath her hand. "Well, okay, there was the one kiss, that time, but it was only once…don't' even remember who started it anymore. And that one time, after the battle…but that, I mean, we were revved up, horny and shit, and after, we never- it wasn't…"

She exhaled again, gathering her next words, and Xander waited, anticipant.

"We never…we…it's just that I…I loved her," she said softly, barely more than a murmur, but heard plainly by him nonetheless. "Don't know if I always knew it, but I did…I loved Buffy. But she didn't love me. I wanted her to…and I think she wanted me…but she didn't love me."

She dropped off entirely after that, her voice growing far away, smaller and much younger than usual, and she closed her eyes, turning her face to partly press it into Xander's shoulder. He felt a slight wetness seep through his shirt, dampening his skin, and knew it was from a tear, Faith's tear. He could barely comprehend this…for her words had shaken him, shattering his confidence, shattering the hopes he had built steadily over the course of the past ten minutes..shattering him, in some small, soft part of his heart.

Buffy…all this time, she had been talking about Buffy. Not him, never him, Faith hadn't meant him at all…but Buffy. Buffy…

Some part of him had known even before now…some part of him had suspected even years ago, or maybe simply hoped or daydreamed that it was so. But definitely within the past few months, and given Faith's actions of the past few weeks, Xander had had the thoughts of a possible attraction, or even more, between the Slayers enter his mind as a strong possibility. But to have it confirmed NOW… it made sense, and yet he could not quite believe it, could not yet entirely process it as truth. Faith did not want him, not in that way…she never had. He'd never stood a chance with her, not as anything more than a friend or a one night stand, at any rate. How could he ever think he might, with women like her, like Buffy…how could a Slayer, a woman who could take him apart with her bare hands, ever be in love with anyone like him?

She had said 'us' and 'we' not in reference to himself with her, but rather Buffy with her…and that was the way it had always been to her. The sister Slayers, the Chosen Two before all the others…how could he have ever thought it possible that Faith could have meant him?

But even as stunned and disappointed as he felt for himself, Xander felt even more sadness for Faith. Knowing what he knew now of her true feelings for Buffy, the true nature of their relationship, he could appreciate now even more closely the depth that her grief must encompass. It was only now beginning to be for him a time and place that Anya's death was beginning to fade in its sharp stinging, and it had been over year ago in its occurrence. For Faith, for whom it had barely been two weeks, all of this time during which she had witnessed the occurrence over and over, unable to obtain rest or comfort, it must be a daily struggle to simply continue to breathe with the pain she must feel…

He knew that he didn't dare let on to her in any way that he had thought or hoped that she meant him, or that anything about what she was saying surprised him. For a few moments Xander kept his face averted as he arranged his features carefully into an expression he could show her, though at the moment her face was still turned into his shoulder, at an angle where she couldn't see him anyway. Keeping one arm around her firmly, Xander set his hand gently on top of her head, letting his fingers slowly brush through her hair.

He struggled to come up with something, anything, to say, something to make it seem better, more bearable. He could tell her about Anya, that he understood, and how he had dealt with her death. He could tell her that he loved Buffy too, that though it had been in a different way than hers over the last few years, it had not been so different, back when they were kids. He could have reiterated to her that it would be okay, that it was okay, and that one day she would get over it, or at least hurt a little less. He could tell her that Buffy had loved her too, though maybe not in the same way.

Xander couldn't tell her any of that, because it wasn't true, any of it, at least not on some level. He wouldn't insult her, would add to her pain by giving her false platitudes. He could think of nothing he could say to her that would be enough, and so he said nothing, simply letting his fingers slowly stroke across the top of Faith's head.

For some time she was quiet, her breathing calming slowly, growing more even, and she turned her head against his shoulder again, once more facing out towards his TV. Still leaned against him, her body holding a slight tension still, Faith spoke with a dry resignation that was nevertheless also somewhat self-conscious.

"I know it sounds stupid…I sound like a fuckin' stupid sap, saying all this shit. I mean, why the hell would I expect it, right? She's Buffy, I'm Faith. She's straight, at least as far as she says anyway, and even if she wasn't, she'd never…I know I'm being stupid. This is all, it's all stupid."

"No," Xander said quietly, shaking his head, and he moved the hand on her head to Faith's hand instead, covering it with his and lightly squeezing her fingers. "No, Faith, you're not…and it's not either."

He didn't think anymore about how to touch her…he just touched her, instinctively providing comforting gestures without it crossing his mind anymore that Faith might protest against them. And she didn't. She accepted his touch, accepted his arms around her, his face near hers, his hand entwined with her hand, and said nothing even in half-hearted protest, nor did she try to pull away. She even began to relax back against him again, her voice softer, calmer now as she answered him back.

"Yeah it is…but thanks."

He didn't respond to that, and Faith didn't speak again. As their wordless closeness continued, Xander's mind began to refocus on simply being, on feeling Faith's shoulders under his arm, the weight of her head on his shoulder, the tickle of her hair against his cheek and the light touch of her hand on his chest. He could smell his shampoo on her hair even through the cigarettes' scent clinging to her borrowed clothes, and the sound of her slowing breaths was oddly soothing to listen to.

He felt her body gradually loosening up beside him more and more, her weight at his side growing heavier, but it was no burden or concern to him. When she closed her eyes, and Xander heard her breathing stagger out further, growing slightly heavier as she drifted into sleep, he was glad…not only for the rest she would hopefully receive, but also because she trusted him enough to allow herself, under the circumstances, to be able to sleep. Letting his own eyes close, Xander kept his arm around Faith, his head leaned against hers, and let himself drift off as well.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"You said love is a hell you cannot bear

And I said give me mine back and then go there, for all I care.

I got my feet on the ground and I don't go to sleep to dream

You got your head in the clouds and you're not at all what you seem

This mindless body and this voice cannot be stifled"

Fiona Apple, "Sleep to dream"

Xander felt Faith shifting against him before anything else, her head turning so that her forehead was pressed into his shoulder, the hand splayed against his chest suddenly exerting stronger pressure, beginning to clutch the material of his shirt. He began to regain awareness as Faith's warm legs sprawled out over his, her hips twisting slightly so that she was partly covering his body with her own. It was not a cuddle, however, but the restless beginnings of the stirring of her body in the course of her dreams.

Blinking, pulling away from the lull of sleep by her sudden movements, Xander half opened his eyes, immediately having to squint against the light still emanating from his lamp. He had left it on when they fell asleep, and now he had to let his eyes adjust before they could focus on the girl lying over him, giving his sleepy brain time to get itself working more coherently.

Normally, the warm, solid weight of Faith's body against his, the softness of her skin, making close contact with his own, would be for Xander a hardly unpleasant way to awaken, even if it was four am, as a slit-eyed look at his digital clock revealed. But as Xander felt Faith's movements grow a little stronger, more frequent, he began to realize that they were more than simply a changing of position during sleep. Looking down at Faith's face, or what he could see of it, from the awkward angle that he was holding her in, Xander saw that her features were tightening with tension and disturbance, her eyes screwed shut, and low, fretful noises that were nearly whines escaped her. She pushed her face more firmly against him, the whining noises soon giving way to words.

"No…no…no…no,no, no…"

It was the dream again, Xander realized, and with that thought he suddenly became a lot more concerned about the way that Faith was wiggling against him. He'd seen the wild way she had always thrashed and carried on while in the course of her nightmare before…and if he wasn't careful, her violent movements could badly hurt him, or even kill him.

"Faith," he said softly, soothingly, and he started to do the best he could to gently disentangle himself from her, wanting to distance himself from her physically as quickly as possible before the pain started in earnest. Still he had to be careful. If he moved too fast she might be startled or assume he was fighting her and strike out at him blindly.

"Faith, shh…it's just a dream, Faith…be still, I'm just going to give you space…"

But it wasn't that easy to get away from her. The more Xander tried to pull away, the more tightly Faith seemed to be grasping him, and the more frantic she seemed to be able to hold him, to keep him close. He felt her nails tear his shirt as she gripped him, giving half moon cuts to his skin, and she only seemed to grow heavier and denser against him as she clung to him, still gasping in a fretful near murmur.

"No…no…no, no, no, no, stop, leave her alone, stop…"

After his initial alarm at being unable to remove himself from Faith's grasp, Xander began to realize something…she wasn't hurting him. Not really, although he'd prefer it if she would loosen up her hold a tad. But she wasn't striking out at him, wasn't hitting or kicking or flailing. She wasn't even screaming, not like she always had before…and though Xander felt the moisture of tears dampening his shirt at the shoulder, their flow was slow, not at all the hysterical uncontrolled rush accompanied by harsh sobbing that he was used to. And though Faith's breathing was shaky, it was not beyond control, not close to hyperventilating… in fact, her reaction while dreaming was so mild in comparison to what Xander had witnessed before that he wondered briefly if Faith wasn't really asleep at all, but had in fact been awake for some time and was simply crying on her own, without the stimulus of a nightmare.

He took hold of her face carefully and turned it toward him, establishing from this that Faith was in fact still asleep. It was just that her dream seemed much more bearable to her now than it had before. Xander didn't know what this might mean, but he was fervently glad for it for both their sakes.

As Faith shivered, still mumbling her protests into his shoulder, her legs shifting against his without actually kicking him, Xander decided to go with a different approach…the same approach he had so instinctively wanted to go with during the other occasions of Faith's dreams, but that had then been impossible. He closed his arms more tightly around Faith, pulling her close to him and stroking her back and head in an attempt to simultaneously comfort and awaken her.

"Faith…shh, it's okay. Just a dream," he said softly into her ear, as her tears continued to seep slowly from under closed lids onto his shoulder. "Faith, wake up…it's okay. Wake up…"

It didn't seem to take her as long as usual to become alert, and when she opened her eyes, lifting her head slowly from Xander's shoulder, she didn't immediately try to pull away. Not sure what she wanted, Xander relaxed his hold on her but kept his arms loosely around her as he looked down at her, his voice quiet.

"The dream? Same one?"

"Yeah," she muttered, nodding slightly, and she swallowed, exhaling slowly through her nose. She didn't meet his eyes, but still she didn't pull away either. She seemed more dazed than angry or embarrassed. Her eyebrows drawing together, Faith's hand brushed his. When Xander took her fingers carefully, watching her face, she didn't pull them back.

"Yeah, same…but different," she continued carefully, still frowning in thoughtful consideration. Xander noticed that though she was gripping his hand, leaned into him, she wasn't trembling, wasn't bristling with adrenaline, and no fresh tears had emerged…a striking contrast from the previous three times. "Like…it was the same…but not as bad. I saw it…but somehow this time it wasn't as bad…does that sound bad?"

She looked over at Xander quickly for reassurance on several levels. For him to look at her like that, to see Faith's eyes trusting, waiting for and wanting his answer, was unbelievable to Xander, and he tried to answer as sincerely as he could.

"No..no, it doesn't."

She held his gaze for a few moments, her expression intent, her eyes dark with thought before she tilted her head, still regarding him in a careful, examining stare. It was rare for her to look at him for so long, and this was especially unusual considering that he had just seen her in a vulnerable state, was still mostly holding her in his arms. But if this disconcerted her, Faith's thoughts were more fully capturing her attention, for she spoke up seriously, still staring into his face.

"Xander. I think it's because of you."

"What?" he asked, frowning slightly, unsure of what she meant. "What's because of me?"

She lifted her head slowly as she shrugged, reaching out into the open space before them and gesturing vaguely, not clarifying very well with her motions even as she attempted to with her words. Even now, she had not moved away.

"I think…I think it's you. That they weren't as bad…because of you," she said slowly, her words feeling out her own thoughts. "Even when I saw it…it was like, it wasn't as bad, wasn't as real…because of you. I think…somehow, I think I felt you…and so it was better."

Her slow words were quiet, almost awed, and Xander too paused, thinking this over, trying to process what this could mean. He might have helped her…he might have made it better. Did he really have that power…or was it simply that someone had been listening to Faith, someone had been close to her, touching her, caring for her, and this had strengthened her to better endure what she had to?

Looking back at her, his arm still lightly around her, and seeing the strange softness in her eyes as she returned his gaze, Xander was aware that his gaze was slipping downward, focusing on her lips. He wanted with sudden urgency to kiss her, to pull her closer, to part her lips with his in a passionate display of the desire and strong affection for her that so suddenly shot through him then…

But he didn't… as he leaned in, he moved his face up somewhat jerkily, pressing a kiss to Faith's forehead instead. He didn't meet her eyes, and so he missed the flicker that passed through their surface as he spoke somewhat nervously.

"Maybe you did feel me…maybe I was there, somehow. And Faith…I, I always will be…for as long as you want."

As Xander had drifted to sleep again, it had been faintly lingering in his mind that he would probably be awakened again by a repetition of Faith's nightmare in a few hours, once she slipped back into REM sleep. He was never too sure if her dream would have cropped up again or not, however, because the ringing of his cell phone at his bedside aroused him from his heavy sleep before he could find out. Both he and Faith were startled awake by the sudden sound of Xander's ringtone, which he realized with some embarrassment that Faith was now aware that Xander, in amusement over his own cleverness, had paired Giles's number with Britney Spears's "Womanizer."

Both jerked, their formerly close, comfortably arranged bodies entangling awkwardly as both attempted to sit up and separate from the other person without elbowing them or shoving them too hard off of each other. When they managed to pull apart enough to sit up a respectable distance apart from each other on Xander's bed, Xander reached for the phone, flipping it open as he glanced at his digital clock. Eight am had they really slept that long?

"Hello?" he mumbled into the phone, clearing his throat, and he could see Faith watching him closely out the corner of her eye, eyebrows drawing together, her eyes narrowing with some apprehension as she listened. Not one part of her even brushed Xander now, as though she were deliberately working almost in defense of the previous night, to keep herself at a physical distance.

"Xander, hello," Giles's voice said in reply, sounding somewhat rushed, yet holding a note of urgency as well that made Xander listen closely, his hand tightening slightly around the phone, for he recognized his tone as the forebearer of important news. "I'm sorry if I've awakened you, but I am quite certain that you will wish to hear this. But first things first…Faith, how is she? How is she doing?"

Even with the urgency of his tone Xander could hear the concern as well, and he glanced at Faith before replying, wanting to be subtle in front of her, but also knowing that with her Slayer hearing, she probably heard every word of what Giles had said. Though she gave off no signs of her thoughts with her facial expression, he nevertheless stumbled somewhat with his reply to Giles.

"She's, she's alright… she's still here," he said, trying to make the words as neutral and casual as possible, and Giles persisted in questioning.

"Her dream, the nightmare- did she sleep? Did she experience it again?"

"Well…yes…but not like before," Xander hedged, his gaze shifting to Faith once more as he replied. It wasn't that what he was saying was so person, it was just that he preferred not to talk about Faith while she was sitting right there listening. Especially since she wasn't making it easy for him to be able to tell what she was thinking.

"It wasn't as…intense," Xander finished up vaguely, and he heard the frown in Giles's tone as he responded.

"Really? How so? Why do you think that is?"

"Giles, she's okay," Xander said rather than answer directly, his tone implying rather strongly that the older man might want to refocus his questions…not only because of Faith's presence, but also because their theory of their physical contact's effect on Faith's dream wasn't very comfortable for him to recount. "So, um, what is it you found out- is it about Faiths' dream?"

"Yes," Giles replied, and his voice resumed a level of intensity as he refocused, his attention diverted for the moment from Faith and the specifics of her latest dream to the more general realm of the details of the dream itself. "Yes, I believe I know now what has- what creature she has been seeing who…attacked…Buffy."

Xander couldn't help but notice that Giles had not said 'killed Buffy.' It was a harsh phrase that none of them wanted to hear, say, or think about, and they often spoke vaguely, in euphemisms, to keep from having to do so. Though Giles couldn't see him, Xander nodded slightly, unconsciously.

"You have? Great…well, what is it then? How do we find it- what does it do?"

Faith sat up a little straighter upon hearing this, seeming to edge a little closer to him on the bed, her eyes lifting. She appeared to be nearly holding her breath in anticipation of his response. Xander looked at her, feeling a desire to smile at her, to reach for her hand, but he held still, waiting.

"I believe that the creature we are in pursuit of is a Rafvik demon," Giles informed him. "The demon is exceedingly rare to be even heard of or referred to in literature, let alone witnessed or encountered by others- although this could, of course, be due to a misdiagnosis of deaths, or a misindentification of the creature rather than a dearth of its existence. In fact, it appears that the few authors and historians who have mentioned the Rafvik demon believe it to be a legend or myth rather than reality. But based upon the descriptions of the writings and Faith's descriptions of the creature, as well as her experience in her dream and the nature of Buffy's- attack- I believe that this is the creature we are searching for. I will show Faith an illustration, of course, but I do believe that this is the one."

"Right," Xander nodded, adjusting his hold on the phone, and he glanced at Faith again before speaking back to Giles. "And this demon thing…it…it attacks people like it did Buffy…in the same way? Or does it have some other…thing it does?"

"Well," Giles began carefully, his voice soft as though about to soften a blow, even as he pressed onward, not hedging from the truth. "I do not believe that this demon attacks in exactly the same way it attacked Buffy on all occasions, or at least no work has mentioned this thus far. But it does mention that it kills by stabbing, a penetration of the victim- an, an impalement, really- with its spikes, which are referred to as appendages in the research. When a person is- penetrated- by it in this way, the Rafvik demon, in duality with the wound it has inflicted, also releases a fast-acting venom into the person's bloodstream. This venom spreads rapidly, speeding up the time of death to nearly instantaneous… and then…at the moment of the victim's death, the moment that the soul begins to leave the body, the venom serves to catch it and tear upon it, to preven it from escaping. The Rafvik demon then internalizes it, taking it into itself as fuel and energy…a way of maintaining power, perhaps, or maybe simply food."

Giles paused, allowing time for his words to sink in, and both Xander and Faith were silent, the meaning of what he was saying beginning to hit them. If this was the demon that had killed Buffy… if this was what they were looking for, if this is what it had done, then…

"You think it did that," Xander voiced, licking his lips, his throat suddenly dry. "To Buffy. You think that it did that to Buffy…that it's trapped her soul somehow."

He saw Faith's jaw tighten, a flash of some strong but indecipherable emotion flicker across her eyes, and she turned her face slightly, her shoulders pulling together tensely even as she continued to listen. Xander swallowed again, hating his own words, but knowing he had to say them, knowing he had to make clear what was going on.

"Is it…like with Angel? Is she in limbo of some kind…unable to be at peace? Is she…Giles, is Buffy in hell?"

Faith flinched, her teeth gritted even more obviously than before, and her hands formed fists; still her eyes remained fixed on the phone at Xander's ear. Xander moved his hand on the phone again, trying not to think, not to imagine how it might be, what Buffy might look like, how she might be suffering right now, with none of them able to comprehend how.

"It cannot be ruled out that she is not," came Giles's soft reply, and Faith's nails dug into her palms harder, beginning to break the skin, drawing a few drops of blood. "And given the circumstances…it seems likely."

It was not Xander who asked the next question, but Faith, her voice louder and more insistent than she had probably intended. It startled both men to hear.

"How do we get her out of there? What do we have to do?"

"Well…it seems logical that if we were to track the demon and kill it, that the souls it has harvested would be released," Giles replied, speaking up a little now that he was aware that Faith was listening too. She nodded, once again beating Xander to the punch in asking questions.

"Yeah, so how do we do that?"

"I would say that we could attempt to track it with magic, and we will of course try to do so…but this creature is so rarely even mentioned in history that it appears to me as if it may be immune over very resistant to tracking of any kind. Perhaps it is part of its powers to resist detection," Giles mused, his voice crackling slightly over the line. "What I believe might be a plausible option is if we were to- with your permission, Faith, of course- track it not in reality, but within your dream, an extended sort of reality. I believe that in this lowered state of consciousness, this repetition of the past, that Buffy has indeed been reaching out to you, sending you a signal as to her situation and her whereabouts. Perhaps if we seized upon this and really listened, really examined with new understanding and attention what she has been saying to you, then we will understand. What I am saying in essence, Faith, is that we may find it beneficial to observe you in the midst of a dream, and perhaps to use magical methods to draw others into it with you, to bring fresh ears and eyes to interpret its events, and then to perhaps track down the demon. What…well, what do you think?"

Faith stared at the phone for several long moments, her eyes dark, narrowed, her hand still tensed at her sides. Her voice was terse when she spoke.

"Give me the phone, Xander."

He hesitated, wondering if she would break it or begin to scream down the receiver at Giles. When he somewhat reluctantly handed her the phone, however, Faith simply carried it into his living room with her, shutting the bedroom door behind her. Xander watched her leave, startled by her action and more than a little curious as to what she might be saying to Giles. He knew better than to get up and follow her, however tempting that might be.

She didn't speak for very long; within a few minutes the bedroom door reopened, and Faith tossed the phone at him so suddenly that Xander flinched, missing catching it. Her face was carefully set into unreadable lines as she told him quickly, "Guess we'll see him tonight…always knew you guys all wanted to see me in bed, guess you got your chance now, huh?"

She disappeared into his bathroom, shutting the door, and a few moments later Xander heard the water running in his sink. Finally swinging his legs off the bed, he stood. Something told him that this would be no simple matter, any of this.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"I'm just a dreamer, I can't wake from sleep

I am a flyer, but am I getting too deep?"

Linda Perry, "Too Deep"

"I'm just supposed to go to sleep?" Faith said incredulously, her eyebrows arching, and she looked between the three others present in Xander's living room with her disbelief at this notion obviously showing itself in her expression.

"Well, yes, that is the plan, I suppose," Giles replied, nodding, and he glanced over at the redheaded woman standing to his right. "Once you have slipped into a subconscious mind state, then Willow will be able to tap into your mind and see the course of your dream, and perhaps understand more fully the message that is being conveyed to you."

"But it helps if you're willing," Willow added, meeting Faith's eyes and giving a quick but somewhat awkward smile.

Like Giles, she too had appeared startled and a bit flustered by Faith's thinner, somehow more fierce appearance upon seeing her. She now spoke a little bit more nicely than she normally would, her voice a shade too loud as she tried not to let her eyes linger on Faith's prominent cheekbones and collarbones, on her borrowed clothes or the dark smudges under her eyes that makeup could not entirely conceal. Willow unconsciously brushed a hand over her own cheek as she pushed back a strand of hair, her touch lingering against her own cheekbone as if to reassure herself that she did not, in her own grief, mirror Faith's appearance.

"I could still connect with your mind, and view your dream as a sort of non-participating third party, even if you were resistant," Willow clarified. "But it would be harder, and the resistance your subconscious would put up against me might make it difficult for me to have enough access to see everything that needs to be seen in your dream. I might miss seeing something important, something that you've been missing seeing or remembering all this time. So it, it would be really helpful if you would really try to be open to this, and to make it as easy for me as possible. I know it must be…uncomfortable…but if you want to help Buffy…if what Giles thinks is right…then it's what will help her the most right now."

Faith's eyes darkened as she looked Willow over, assessing her, her words, perhaps measuring just how much knowledge the other woman possessed in regard to her, to Buffy, to both of them in regard to each other. Her eyes moved to Xander, as though sending him a silent question, and he smiled at her, reassuring, encouraging.

After the arrangements had been made in the morning for Giles and Willow to become involved in the situation of Faith's dream, the easy interaction between her and Xander from the night before had become somewhat strained, as she seemed to be working to put some distance back between them. She hadn't acted hostilely towards him, exactly, more as if Xander were someone that she barely knew, an acquaintance that she happened to be sharing space with. Faith had barely spoken to him, her features guarded, her words a little stiff, but Xander hadn't taken it personally. Between what had happened with them last night- Faith opening up to him, asking for physical contact and comfort from him, falling asleep in his arms and then experiencing a more muted version of the nightmare as a result- he had expected her to back off a little, to try to protect herself and her feelings from him. As long as Faith came back every time she left, as long as she opened up again after every time she shut back down, Xander could be patient…Xander could wait for her to return.

And she had, eventually. It was only early evening, but she was back at his apartment, as she had promised him, though her enthusiasm to be there, to be faced with the furtive looks and concern of Giles and Willow and the mission they were about to undergo, was far from overwhelming. Of course, Xander could hardly blame her for that…and he could tell just looking at Willow, listening to the anxious lilt to her voice just barely detectable to someone who knew her as well as he did, that she wasn't looking forward to delving into Faith's mind any more than Faith was.

Looking between Willow and Giles again, Faith's eyes returned to Xander, and she kept them on his face as she nodded, addressing the others.

"Yeah, fine, I'm about as willing as possible considering you're gonna be, like, magically raping my mind here," she muttered, exhaling. Letting her shoulders fall, she turned towards Giles, crossing her arms.

"Just got one question for you here. How am I supposed to be all relaxed and go to sleep deep enough to dream in at eight pm, with all of you guys standing there staring at me? You gonna club me upside the head or hit me with a magic whammy or something, 'cause that's about all that's gonna do it like this."

She had a point there, Xander had to admit. He couldn't picture himself being able to fall asleep very easily either if it was himself that was expected to stretch out on the couch and nod off with the knowledge that three people were staring at him, about to enter his subconscious and see the most vulnerable part of him, to see the same images that had tormented him for weeks…and of course, his reaction to them.

"Well," Giles admitted, his tone a little startled, as if the thought had never occurred to him. "I can see that this could be difficult for you. Perhaps if you rested in Xander's bed rather than on the couch, and if we simply waited in here for you to fall asleep, then once we saw that you were…of course, if Xander doesn't mind you in this bed-"

"Been there, done that, trust me, the guy doesn't mind," Faith said with a hint of a smirk twisting the corner of her lips.

Xander swallowed, his heartbeat quickening, wondering what the others made out from that remark. How exactly had Faith meant it? He hoped they thought she was referring to the distant past, and maybe she was. It wasn't that he was embarrassed or ashamed, or thought that she was aware of his growing feelings toward her, the feelings that last night had only began to bring more fully to head. It was just that it felt so soon, so unsure, that he wanted to keep it private for a while longer, just between the two of them.

"It's fine with me," he said quickly, trying to neutralize her expression. "If you'll relax better in my bed, then of course I don't mind."

"Five by five," Faith replied, and she turned, reaching the door to his room and then inclining her head towards him with her brows arched. "Hey, you coming?"

She was looking at and addressing Xander. When he blinked, somewhat surprised by her request, his mind scrambling to attempt to figure out what exactly she intended by it, Willow and Giles seemed considerably more taken aback. Willow's eyes widened, questions immediately rising to their surfaces, and they flickered from Faith to Xander, as if suddenly considering them from an entirely foreign angle. Giles's expression crossed the line from being merely startled to entirely uncomfortable by whatever thoughts must have crept into his mind, and he cleared his throat, his eyes hurriedly shifting downward.

Faith, observing this, smirked slightly at first, as if amused to have one over on them. When her eyes came to rest on Xander, however, the corners of her mouth flattened, her forehead creased, and she shrugged with quick apparent unconcern, her tone much more distant than before.

"Whatever, just figured I'd save you the effort of sticking your head in the door every two minutes to see if I'm out yet or not. If you think you can't handle being in the room with me while I'm stretched out on your bed, can't really blame you for that, probably takes too much self control for you not to-"

"Faith," Xander interrupted, holding up one hand, eager to stop the conversation to save his own pride as well as hers. "I think I can handle it. I'm coming."

He met her eyes, and for a few moments she didn't try to look away, didn't try to conceal the relief that showed itself within her gaze. Looking at her, Xander knew that the hurried reverting back to familiar defensive and insinuative words had been a protective device against his reaction, as well as Willow's and Giles's. Even after everything that had passed between them in the past few days, it must be hard for Faith to continue to let herself slowly crack open to him…especially when he acted as if it were strange or surprising, even undesirable, for her to do so rather than pretending, as she seemed to need, not to notice that it were entirely unusual actions for her.

It seemed that part of her still needed to be on guard, however erratically and weakly so, at least around others. In her words to him, Faith had almost lied, almost implied to Giles and Willow that she and Xander had never slept in the same room before, let alone the same bed, whatever the context of the action. But as they looked at each other, a brief, wordless understanding passed between them, outside of Willow's and Giles's comprehension.

Both Faith and Xander knew that Faith had come to him on her own terms the night before. Both were aware of the fact that she had pressed her body to his, allowing him to hold her, even to cuddle her. Neither had forgotten her confidences in him, the way that she had fallen asleep in his arms. They both recalled how as of recently, Xander had seen Faith in many different and vulnerable lights as he had others he was close to. They both knew that he had witnessed Faith cry, witnessed her screaming and lashing out in the grips of nightmares, witnessed her so drunk she could barely walk, so drunk that she blacked out and could not defend herself against a human would-be rapist. He had seen Faith hostile and raging, broken and anguished, placid and mute, in his borrowed clothes and nearly nothing at all, the skimpy material soaked and transparent. He felt that for the first time he was beginning to really see Faith, to really know her, not only what she showed or even what she was, but the spectrum of everything that she could be.

Xander knew that Faith was more to him than simply an attractive girl that he had a past with, a woman whom he lusted after and therefore felt an obligation to save. And as he held Faith's gaze with his own, he knew that Faith knew this too. But it was more than either could say… more than either would dare say, at least not here, in this moment. And so the distance, even as Faith attempted to keep him close in her request to him, was needed, whatever the truth might be.

But she was right. Even with all of this being true… or maybe because it was true…it was hard to share a bed with Faith, in any manner.

"You ready?" Xander asked, gesturing toward the door, and Faith nodded, her voice a little softer than before.

"Alright…time to catch some Z's."

She made her way through Xander's door slowly, not quite her usual swagger, but the closest that Xander had observed from her yet, and glanced back at the others as if to see if they had noticed. Xander followed, shutting the door behind them, but not before he saw that both Giles and Willow were nearly gawking, Willow's mouth opening and shutting without words. He knew what they had to be thinking… and for some reason, this seemed to make Faith more comfortable than if they knew the truth. He had a feeling that she would be much more uneasy to let them know the nature of their contact from the night before than by simply letting them believe that they were having sex.

Faith went straight to Xander's bed once the door was shut, flopping onto her stomach on the sheets as if she were preparing to tackle it. She bent one leg at the knee and let it crash back down, repeating the movement with her other leg restlessly. Xander came to sit cross-legged at the head of the bed, watching her with a little confusion.

Faith exhaled loudly, then stretched, spreading her limbs so that they took up almost the entire bed. Though her head was facing Xander's direction, she held it in such a way that he couldn't see her face. "Guess I gotta get this over with…"

She sat up and flipped back the blanket, settling herself under it beside Xander and exhaling loudly again. She turned away from him, her back curved, and Xander restrained himself from asking her what she wanted from him, why she had asked him to come in with her. Comfort, if she needed it during the dream...moral support? But her back was to him, her body carefully held so that it didn't brush his…

"Think you're ready?" he asked her quietly, and still facing away from him, Faith laughed, the sound slightly bitter.

"No, of course I'm not fuckin' ready, never gonna be ready for this. But I gotta do it…so, lights out for me, even if it's like still daylight outside."

It wasn't, but Xander didn't point this out. He sat there, not speaking, not sure if he should, listening to Faith's breathing…sure that the room was so quiet he could even hear her swallows. He wondered if she could hear his every slight movement, every swallow, every beat of his heart, in amplification in the room's quiet. Or was she so used to incredible hearing that she had learned to block it out at will?

Xander remained sitting up on the bed in a somewhat awkward manner, still unsure of what Faith wanted to expected. He wanted to stretch his legs out in front of him, to lean back more fully into his pillow, but he also didn't want to startle her while she was trying to sleep when she was clearly already ill at ease.

Not that sleep seemed as if it were going to come for Faith any time soon. As Xander watched her turned-away back, she exhaled, stretching out he formerly curled up legs so that her foot brushed his calf. Trying to ignore the quick jolt of warmth that shot through his core at the feel of her touch, even with the layer of his jeans between her skin and his, Xander said nothing about it. Faith shifted herself again, only a minute later, rolling over to stretch out on her stomach, her head still turned to the side.

As Xander watched, this continued for ten minutes, almost without ceasing. Faith was restless; it seemed that she was simply unable to get comfortable, unable to lie still. At a minimum of once every minute or two she readjusted her position, moving her arms, her legs, turning her head, curling her legs to her chest, then straightening them back out, kicking Xander in the process a couple of times. She turned from her left side to her stomach to her right side, then onto her back, all of this often accompanied by irritated sighs or loud exhalations. Just looking at her, Xander began to feel rather anxious himself, and he began to fidget as well, as if his body were in sympathy with Faith's.

"Damn, this is ridiculous," Faith ground out finally, rolling over onto her back with an annoyed, nearly violent gesture. "How the hell am I supposed to sleep with them out there tapping their feet and looking at their watches, waiting for me to conk out so they can come in and crack into my head?"

"Don't know, Faith," Xander replied with somewhat helpless sympathy, for it was clear how uncomfortable she was, and how this discomfort was steadily increasing as sleep evaded her. "Uh…maybe just try to calm down, empty out your thoughts…"

"Oh yeah, because that's so damn easy," she snorted, her voice holding more contempt than amusement for his simplistic attempt at advice. "Just empty my mind, yeah, I'll do that. Got a thought sucker outer thing or something? I totally didn't know that was possible, Xan, thank you so much for that very helpful suggestion."

"Sorry," Xander said quickly, deciding he'd better back off. Obviously Faith didn't really want to talk to him so much as at him. He decided also against touching her shoulder, as he'd been trying to decide whether or not to do. Clearly she wasn't in any sort of mood for sympathy now, whether from frustration at her inability to sleep or anxiety at what she knew would happen after sleep came.

"This is fucking stupid!" she burst out with again after another two minutes of silence, and she rolled over, huffing loudly into her pillow. She punched the mattress, making Xander jump. Again he didn't know how to respond.

"Uh, Faith…maybe we can wait for you to fall asleep on your own. Without the pressure of it, maybe you'll sleep later, and I can just call Willow and Giles then or something."

"No," Faith muttered, exhaling and shaking her head, her face still buried in the pillow. "No, I gotta do this. We can't wait any longer. I've gotta do this now. We don't know how long she's- or what's been going on, if Buffy-"

She cut herself off, not willing to finish the sentence, or maybe simply not trusting her voice to continue. Deciding to risk it, Xander lay a hand on her shoulder briefly, squeezing it without words. Faith sighed, longer, more drawn out and weary now, and then went quiet.

Another few minutes went by, and it seemed that still Faith was nowhere near sleep. Though she didn't' turn over again Xander could see how tense her muscles were, and did not hear her breathing slow. When she spoke up suddenly, her words a little rough, almost a challenge, he was not surprised.

"You know what, screw this. I gotta do this, and I gotta do this now, so whatever the hell works at this point… so don't make a big thing out of this, and don't think it's gonna be a habit or anything, all right?"

Not even giving Xander a chance to reply in any sort of manner, Faith rolled over again, this time so that she was facing him. Taking Xander's arm quickly, she lifted it slightly and shrugged herself underneath it, arranging it around her shoulders. She curled her body against his side in what could only be described as a cuddle, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Like I said, not gonna be a habit," she muttered, closing her eyes, as Xander blinked down at her, his heartbeat speeding up even more at this increased physical contact. "Kinda seemed to work last night though, so whatever."

"Um..yeah," Xander swallowed, his voice only slightly strained, and he prayed that Faith wasn't going to do something like drape her leg across his lap…something that might make things more than a little awkward for him. "Yeah, sure, whatever works…"

He could feel her body loosening against him after only a few minutes, her muscles relaxing, as if in proof that this was indeed what she had needed to wind down. Xander slowly tightened his arm around her, daring to risk brushing his hand over the length of her hair. Faith sighed, but it was slow, relaxed now rather than agitated, and her head pressed more firmly into his shoulder as his fingers combed over her hair.

He listened to the sound of Faith's breathing evening out, her body seeming as time passed to grow warmer and heavier against him. In less than five minutes Xander could tell that she was asleep, but he didn't call for Willow and Giles. Instead he gazed down at her, his fingers still brushing lightly over her hair, and he wondered what this meant.

Was it simply the physical contact that so obviously calmed Faith into being able to sleep, into having less vivid experience with her nightmare? Was physical touch and comfort from anyone all that she needed to improve, regardless of who the person was?

Or was it him? Was it he alone that she could find a measure of peace with, Xander alone that could really help? And if this were true, was it simply because Faith trusted him now…or was there a deeper meaning, a deeper connection?

Xander didn't know…all he knew was that he was beginning to suspect that something did exist between them, whether or not Faith realized it yet. And for that chance, however small it might be, he was hopeful. But for what?


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"The memories ease the pain inside, now I know why

All of my memories keep you near

In silent moments, imagine you near…

Made me promise I'd try

To find my way back in this life

I hope there is a way to give me a sign you're okay"

"Memories," Within Temptation

Xander didn't' want to risk awakening Faith by pulling himself away from her or calling out for Giles and Willow to come into the room now that she was sleeping. In fact, her position against him in her sleep made him hesitate as to whether he should call Giles and Willow in at all without first altering her pose. The two had been stunned enough by her invitation for him to join her in his bedroom, and to walk in on them like this, with Faith comfortably snuggled against his side, his arm around her, would only seem to prove whatever thoughts and suspicions they were having about the nature of their relationship.

Then there was the embarrassment factor- Xander's, because of what he knew they must be thinking and would think if they saw him in bed like this with Faith, and Faith's, for knowing her, he was sure she would be mortified if they saw her lying against him in such a manner. For these reasons alone Xander considered moving Faith away from him, considered prying her gently into another position before going to get Giles and Willow to come in.

But concerns held him back, ultimately deciding him against it. If he moved Faith, no matter how carefully, she would probably wake up. He didn't want that. Xander remembered the night before, how her dream had been better, more bearable when she remained in physical contact with him…maybe that would happen again for her, if he let her lie close to him again in sleep. With Willow looking around in her head and all of them needing to be as cool and collected as possible to find out what they needed to know to help Buffy, Faith could probably use all the extra comfort she could get. The fact that she had almost immediately fallen asleep after seeking physical touch from him backed that up.

But most importantly… what did it matter what Giles or Willow or anyone else thought? What did it matter if people were embarrassed or uncomfortable in the end? What mattered was that right now Faith was comfortable, so they had the best chance possible of being able to help Buffy. None of them knew or even wanted to think about what Buffy might be going through now…and it was she and whatever could help her that Xander had to think about now.

He decided to text Willow to enter his bedroom rather than to call out for her; he might awaken Faith by calling loudly enough for her to hear. It took some maneuvering, but he was finally able to wrestle his cell phone out of his pocket with the arm not anchoring Faith beside him, punching his message in one handed. Within a couple of minutes he saw his bedroom door ease open, and Willow and Giles came inside quietly, shutting the door again.

Willow was carrying a flask of pale blue liquid in her hand. Her eyes flitted immediately to Faith and Xander's cozy position on the bed, and though her eyes grew round and she licked her lips unconsciously, she said nothing about their arrangements. Giles, for his part, simply cleared his throat, an uncomfortable flush rising to his cheeks, and looked back at Willow.

"How long has she been asleep?" Willow asked in a stage whisper, and when Xander estimated, she nodded. "And how long is she usually asleep before the nightmare begins?"

"Well, that kind of depends, from what I can tell. It doesn't seem to have a pattern like the rest of it," Xander said, feeling his own ears grow a little warm knowing that Willow was looking at him. Still, he didn't remove his arm from around Faith…he didn't' even want to. But it would be nice if she didn't' have to work quite so hard at keeping the shock from dominating her features.

"Sometimes it seems to be less than twenty minutes before she has it, sometimes hours," Xander tried to expand upon quietly, turning his mouth away from Faith's head so he wouldn't be speaking into her ear. She continued to breathe slowly, deeply, seemingly undisturbed as of yet by their presence or their voices, and Xander moved his thumb over the ball of her shoulder.

"Then it would be prudent to carry this procedure out as quickly as possible, in the event that her dream occurs sooner rather than later," Giles proposed, composed enough to look at Xander without grimacing or showing discomfort in his expression now.

Willow nodded, coming forward to stand at the foot of the bed. Her eyes flickered from Xander's face to Faith's, then back again as she spoke.

"Here goes, then…ready?"

"Guess so," Xander replied, trying to smile, but the effort was not entirely successful. As Willow came around to Faith's side of the bed and Giles stood at a distance, simply watching, his eyes somewhat troubled behind his glasses, Xander's thoughts came to rest on images of Buffy. This was so unfair to her, for Faith…so much less than they deserved. God he hoped that this would help them, both of them.

Willow made her way to Faith's side of the bed, bending towards her with a slight frown, examining the dark Slayer's face. When she seemed satisfied, whether that Faith was sleeping or that it was safe to proceed, she took a small cloth from a drawstring bag around her neck. As she extracted the cloth, a cloyingly sweet scent filled the room, as though the cloth had been soaked or sprayed with some kind of perfume. Covering the opening of the flask with the cloth, she wet it with a small amount of the blue liquid inside it. Looking over to the bed again, regarding Faith once more, Willow reached over and gently dabbed the blue liquid onto her forehead, as though she were anointing her.

Xander nearly held his breath, expecting Faith to feel this and to react, to push out at them in her sleep or even to awaken. But she didn't' stir, and the mark remained, prominent upon her forehead, so bright it nearly glowed.

Eyeing her work critically for a moment, Willow then wet the cloth with the blue liquid again, more thoroughly this time. Slowly, carefully she dabbed the liquid onto each finger, and then the palm of her left hand, covering its underside with a coating of blue. Turning back to Faith on the bed, she firmly lay her hand against Faith's forehead so that the anointment on the brunette's head met up with her own painted hand. As Xander and Giles observed, eyes narrowed with concentration, Willow began to chant in Latin, her voice intensifying as the length of her speech went on. After several words, the skin of her hand and Faith's head began to glow the same pale blue, light spreading out from where their skin made contact. Willow's body went rigid, her eyes open wide, even as Faith's remained tightly shut. Though both women were very still, it seemed to Xander as if they were no longer animate, no longer quite occupying their bodies, as though they were now present only physically.

And then Xander himself stiffened as the same dim blue light peering out from under Willow's hand spread, creeping up Willow's arm, over Faith's face, steadily outwards, steadily enveloping the bodies of both women. As it slowly covered Faith, it spread out over Xander as well, and he couldn't move, couldn't breathe, a sudden cool sensation sweeping over him as his head spun in dizzying nonsensical thought.

He was falling, twisting and spinning in the air, unable to stop himself, unable to see or hear anything but the noisy silence around him, darkness so total that it almost transcended into a form of light. His stomach lurching, his heart thudding in sickening bursts, Xander did not expect to ever land, but rather to simply keep falling into eternity.

Of course, he did land eventually, his feet hitting the ground so solidly that he swayed, almost collapsing into a heap from the force of the impact. Xander bowed his head, doubling over and staring at his feet, just trying to get his bearings, to make sure he didn't pass out or throw up in a delayed response to his experience. As his disorientation and physical discomfort began to subside, his heart easing down out of his throat and beginning to approach a more normal rate of beating, Xander took in a slow breath, raising his face to finally look up.

What the hell…what had happened, what…

It was obvious enough to himself that he was in an alley; somehow he had been transported there without his will or knowledge. But how…was this inside of Faith's mind, inside her dream? Had Willow accidentally pulled him in along with herself?

His question was answered within a few second as a voice spoke up across from him, the tone as slow and confused as he felt.

"Well, I guess this worked, huh?"

Xander turned his head to see Willow on the other side of the alley, against the left wall rather than standing in the middle as he was. She didn't look shaken, but only a bit perplexed, as if she couldn't quite grasp what had occurred. She turned her head, quickly scanning the alley's length as though unsatisfied with the results she'd achieved.

"Well… yeah, I guess… but what am I doing here?" Xander asked, his voice foggier than he had intended. "You didn't mean to bring me here too, did you?"

"No…that was a surprise," Willow admitted, and she began to walk over to him, frowning, her forehead creased in concern. "Maybe because you were, you know, touching Faith. Maybe the spell spread out to include you as well. I wouldn't have anticipated that, but I suppose it makes sense… Xander, are you okay?"

"Yeah…yeah, I'm alright," Xander replied slowly, shaking his head as his eyes took in everything about them. He brushed his hands over himself, feeling that he was solid, real, and when Willow reached his side, concern still showing in her eyes, he touched her arm, finding her to be solid too. "Just kinda caught off guard… this is all so real."

"Well it IS kinda real, sort of," Willow told him, giving a slight shrug as she examined his face, making sure he was indeed okay. "What are dreams but an alternate level of reality? Especially when they're there for a specific purpose, when they're messages or prophecies. Slayer dreams, they're not just dreams, we all know that… that's why we're here right now. That's why we're doing this."

"Right…so…where's Faith then? Isn't she dreaming yet? Or is she-"

Just then the two of them could hear voices, could hear the sound of casual, meandering footsteps approaching. The voices were loud, excited, female, laughing often, and Xander recognized them immediately as the voices of Faith…and Buffy.

His eyes met Willow's, and he swallowed, wondering what to do… would it mess things up in some way for the girls to see them? But where would they hide? Willow, shaking her head, her lips pinched together, took him by the arm, pulling him back with her, against the alley wall.

"They won't notice us," she murmured. "But just the same, don't' try to touch or talk to them…don't want to interfere with the way it normally plays out…"

He heard the strain in her tone and saw the continued thinness of her lips, and he knew the sound of Buffy's voice had hit her hard, just as it was now hitting him, the continued sound of it both beautiful and terrible for him to hear. As he flattened himself with Willow against the alley wall, all he could think was that he wanted out of this, he wanted to be back with his own room, his own mind, his own reality. Just hearing Buffy's voice hurt…to see her face, to see her smile again too…

And Xander knew what was coming… he knew that he would also see Buffy die.

He could hear the Slayers drawing closer, could tell from the rhythm of their steps that they were walking close, and he could picture it, could see the movements, their faces, even though they had not yet appeared before him. Just before the alley's opening the footsteps stopped, and Faith's voice sounded, loud, clear, and cheery, obviously teasing.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

Xander tensed, sensing Willow too stiffening beside him, her jaw clinching. They waited, knowing what was to come.

It happened so fast that Xander wasn't sure what happened first, or how it all came about. It seemed that one moment he and Willow were alone in the alley, with Buffy and Faith standing just out of sight, and in the next, vampires were rushing about in throngs before their eyes, running, lunging, and attacking at alarming speed. And amongst it all were the Slayers, working in tandem with each other, with a raw ferocity that stunned Xander in its beauty.

They seemed unaware of himself and Willow, not that he would have expected them to notice them anyway while so focused on slaying. Watching them, Xander was awed. He had seen Faith and Buffy slay together before, of course, but now in particular it seemed to him an art, a spectacular performance more than work from the flawless way that they fought together, their styles complementing each other's perfectly.

And through it all, there was Buffy… Buffy fighting, Buffy smiling in fierce triumph and simple enjoyment of her endeavors… just Buffy, there before him again, Buffy, so real and alive that Xander felt weak with the need to go to her. He wanted to call to her, to touch her to jeopardize everything so she could know for sure what she had meant to him, to all of them. But he watched in silence, his heart burning, and now he knew that he understood. This was Faith's reality now…this was her pain.

Xander watched the Slayers amidst the fervent activity surrounding him, unaware now of Willow at his side, watching every bit as closely as he, her face pale, eyes slightly watery as she too took in the sight of Buffy, lively and so, so alive, for the moment. None of the vampires attempted to attack him, or even seemed to notice his existence, as long as he was quiet and still. And though the Slayers passed by him several times, Faith so closely once that he felt her hair brush his arm, they too seemed to see nothing, nothing more than what they usually saw within the context of Faith's dreams.

It was as Faith had said; though many vampires were present, the two women together finished them off with ease, even relish, each taking down a final vampire nearly in the same moment. Both were smiling widely, their breathing quickened with adrenaline, and as Xander and Willow watched, they turned toward each other in the same instant, both still smiling, beginning to walk towards each other.

Xander had been so drawn into watching the dramatic course of the Slayer's battle, so mentally and emotionally thrown off guard by seeing Buffy moving and talking, LIVING before him, that it had escaped his awareness temporarily why he was here, why he was watching… and what was to come. But as he saw Buffy turn to Faith with that open smile, her eyes glinting with excitement, it hit him that this was no happy moment, no rewrite of history. Buffy was going to die before his eyes… in just a few moments, Buffy was going to die, in the terrible, gut-wrenching way that Faith had relayed to them. And there was nothing he could do about it… not if he wanted to help Faith in the real world, and Buffy in whatever world she was in now. There was nothing he could do.

He saw the creature- the Rafvik demon- just as Faith did, only a moment before it struck…a moment too long to see, too long to anticipate, to be aware of what was to come, and yet too short to move, too short to act, too short even to scream. Xander would have done those things, any and all of them, no matter what consequences his interference rendered, if only he had had time…

But too soon the Rafvik demon had attacked, his appendage shoving itself through Buffy's back to penetrate her heart, the sharp end sticking itself out from her chest, waving back and forth at them menacingly. Xander's stomach flipped, his heart slamming against his ribcage with its too rapid beats, a scream rising to his throat and then catching there, unable to be released. He started to move forward, meaning to go to Buffy, to help her, somehow he had to help her, to save her. But a shaking yet strong hand shoved him back and held him there.

Her eyes wide and darkly wet with emotion, her face drained of color, Willow was nevertheless staring at the demon and its impalement of Buffy, her lips moving rapidly as she whispered the words of a spell under her breath. The air around them shifted, a cool breeze forming, and Xander barely noticed, no longer caring about whatever it was Willow was doing, whatever it was that they were here for. He saw Buffy, and he saw nothing else.

It was just like Faith had described, only worse…so, so much worse than anything Xander could have heard, anything he could have envisioned, anything he could have conceived of without actually being there, actually witnessing it firsthand. To see one of his dearest friends, a beloved family member…to see Buffy, their Buffy, his Buffy, gasping for breath and finding herself unable to obtain it…to see the blood spreading over her chest at an alarming pace as her legs buckled, her eyes wide and unblinking, stark with her pain and shock. To see blood bubble up to her lips and spill over her mouth as she grew still, to watch her eyes glaze over as the life left them…

And to know that this happened, it happened and is happening for real, it's real, and there's nothing, NOTHING you can do.

The Rafvik demon withdrew its appendage from Buffy, and as she fell to the ground, her body nothing more than a bloodied husk of what she had been, a bloodied husk of BUFFY, it wheeled around at a leisurely pace, disappearing into the shadows. Willow was still chanting beside him, her body rigid, eyes narrowed with her concentration, but though her hand still rested on Xander's chest to keep him from moving, he could not have done so. He wanted to run to Buffy's body, to help her, hold her, to give her back the life that had been snatched from her. He had done it once before, maybe, just maybe he could manage it one more time…

He wanted to put his hand on Buffy's wound to stop it from bleeding, to block out its sight, and therefore maybe its existence. He wanted to straighten out her limbs, to smooth her hair, to wipe the blood from her lips and chin, to somehow take away the terrible violence of what had occurred.

Dimly Xander became aware of Faith, realizing that she was screaming, the noise raw and shrill with her horror. He wanted then to go to her too, to put his arms around Faith and hold her tight, to turn her away from having to see any more of what she had seen too many times already. But Xander couldn't move… he just…

"We have to go now, Xander," Willow's voice cut in, and she grasped his arm, turning to face him with her eyes once more opened wide with anxious urgency. "I put a tracer on him, I know where he came from before here, so I know where he probably will go back to. We have to go back now!"

"But…but her body…" Xander stuttered, his gaze focused on the fallen girl before him, then shifting slowly to the grieving brunette sinking to her knees before it. "And Faith…doesn't Faith…"

"This, it's, it's not really Buffy, not really her body… and Faith is going to wake up soon. That's why we have to go back, before she does, we don't want to get stuck here, Xander. Come on…"

Willow grabbed his hand, her grip hard, palms clammy, and Xander closed his fingers around hers, barely able to tear his eyes away. As he felt a strong pulling sensation envelop him, he could still see Buffy's body before his eyes, could still hear Faith's screams…


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"A voice inside me that keeps on teasing  
As sweet as like a whisper from the lips of pain"

"Survive," Lacuna Coil

Xander felt as if he had been falling forever into nothing, hurtling through a distance in space with no beginning or end. He would have expected his re-emergence into the real world to e as had been his entrance into Faith's dream, startling and jerky, as if finally hitting the ground after his fall. This was not the case, however; instead, he felt as if he were slowly fading back into himself, emerging piece by piece into a wholeness and reality.

Eventually he processed that he was back in his bedroom, in his bed, as was Willow. He could see her hovering close, her face just above his own, her hand still stretched to touch Faith's forehead. He saw that the blue light was gone, and though Willow had not yet moved away, she was obviously mentally aware and present in the current moment with Xander.

Next Xander became aware of Faith, of her physical presence and close contact with him, the sensation of her touch overtaking much of his senses as his mind cleared up enough of its initial confusion from its array of mental, emotional, and physical stimuli. She grown cold, her skin pale and clammy against his, yet Xander could feel that she was sweating too now, became aware that he too had began to perspire in the stress and trauma of what he had just experienced. As he looked over at her, still attempting to normalize his too-rapid breathing, to control the involuntary tremors of his limbs and the bile threatening to creep up his throat, Xander saw that Faith's eyes were closed.

She was asleep, but as Willow had predicted, likely not for long. She had her face mostly turned into his collarbone, and Xander's stomach twisted all the more from the feeling of her hot breath, almost panting, against him. Her body was fully curled against his, as though she were trying to seek protection or hiding from his form, and Faith's arms had somehow wound around his waist to grip him so tightly that Xander felt his ribs ache, threatening to fracture if she squeezed much harder. He heard the sobs starting, low and distraught, in her throat, felt the first tear seep into his shirt at the neckline, and instinctively he tightened his arms around her, even as his own feelings scattered, rising intently to rival the still-unconscious Slayer's.

Even though Xander knew very well where he was now, even though he knew exactly what had happened, knew that it had only been a dream, he could not shake away the remaining feelings from Faith's dream, the lingering memories that were so constant and vivid that it felt to him as if he had never really left at all, as if part of him had stayed back in that alley, never to return. He knew it hadn't really happened, knew it wasn't really real…and yet it was. He had seen it before his eyes…he had seen Buffy die. He had seen her blood, seen her shock, noted the exact moment that she passed over from being Buffy, his friend, his family, to merely Buffy's body. It WAS real, both in that moment, for all present, and in the past, when Buffy had been alone. And she had been alone…it had happened, just like he had seen, like Willow had seen and Faith had been seeing…and she had been alone. Utterly, entirely alone.

Xander swallowed convulsively as he desperately tried to shove his thoughts away from seeing Buffy, her eyes bulging, then fading, no feeling in their surfaces any longer as death overtook her. He saw her falling, saw the blood gushing over her lips, the gouged hole in her heart, and he shook his head tightly, closing his eyes against his own envisioning as his arms closed even more firmly and protectively around Faith's trembling form. No…just no…

He realized that it was Faith, not him, who was speaking, her words an exact echo of his thoughts, and she was beginning to squirm against him as she came closer to breaking through the heavy oppression of the dream into consciousness. When Xander opened his eyes, succeeding in pushing back thoughts of Buffy for the moment, he saw that her features were strained, her hurting clear and poignant even with her eyes closed.

Glancing up, he saw that Willow was still leaned over them, her hand on Faith's head, her body rigid and still; she seemed frozen with shock and emotion, or maybe she was simply leery about what might happen if she moved too soon or too suddenly. Her normally pale skin had become a chalky grey color, as if she were physically ill, and her lips quivered, her eyes bright with unshed tears as the arm extended to touch Faith began to shake. The tremor quickly spread to include her hand and fingers until her touch had slipped down to nearly touch Faith's eyebrows. She swallowed, letting out a shuddery breath as her eyes moved from Faith to Xander.

"That…that was…"

She didn't finish, swallowing again, still not moving her hand even as its shaking intensified, and Faith's stirring grew more pronounced, her outcries louder. Xander wondered if she was trying somehow by continuing to touch Faith to steady her…or maybe her own self. He knew that he felt if he moved, if he broke hold of Faith, the intense physical contact with her, that he would be unable to bear the pain pressing tightly against his chest, would be unable to walk or stand alone.

Across from the foot of the bed, standing against the wall, Giles took in the three young adult's behavior with bewildered anxiety, his concern only increasing as none of them spoke, and all three, even Faith in her struggle to awaken, showed signs of their shock and pain in their actions. He hastened closer, his hands lifting as though he intended to touch one or all of them as he looked at each person in turn, searching their faces worriedly.

"What has happened… are all of you all right? Is anyone injured… did it work as planned, did you track the Rafvik demon successfully? Why has Faith not awakened- Willow, Xander, are you-"

His questions were not answered then, nor did he finish speaking, for Faith interrupted his words by choosing that moment to awaken. Gasping in a loud exhalation, her eyes opened, their irises large and shiny with her traumatized emotion as she attempted to sit up violently, slowed down by Xander's arms. Willow jerked her hand away, backing up, eyes wide as she watched the brunette closely. Faith pulled Xander to a sitting position along with her in her sharp movements, and he caught his breath, readjusting his arms around her and immediately attempting to soothe her.

"Shh…Faith, it's okay. You're right here, it's okay. It's okay…"

It wasn't okay, and he knew that more clearly than ever now, but he said it anyway, for the first time feeling comfortable, feeling right, to comfort Faith, no matter who was watching or how she might protest. In doing so, he could somehow comfort himself as well. She didn't protest but let him hold her, let him murmur to her, gulping in deep, uneven breaths. Neither noticed or cared that Giles and Willow were watching, disconcerted and concerned by Faith's reaction and still not quite used to the physical closeness of Xander to her. With Xander's arms around her and his slightly shaky voice calling her name near her ear, Faith calmed fairly quickly, enough that only a few tears were witnessed. Even so, between those couple escaped, though hastily rid of, tears, paired with Willow's and Xander's shellshocked initial behavior, Giles looked quite alarmed as his head swiveled between Willow by the wall and Faith and Xander on the bed, trying to determine if they were all unhurt.

"Willow…Xander, Faith…are you all right? Are you unhurt? What happened? Can any of you tell me what has occurred here?"

"We…we…I guess we're okay," Willow stammered, looking at the other two, before the tears in her eyes spilled over. She covered her mouth with a low sob.

Hearing her, Faith swallowed, turning her head and taking a deep breath before asking her with concern in her tone. "Will…you okay?"

Willow inclined her head in a rather unconvincing nod, meeting Faith's eyes only briefly before she let her gaze slip away. Exhaling, she wiped her cheeks and cleared her throat as she attempted to regain control.

"Yeah…yeah, I'm okay… it's just…Buffy. The way she…seeing her…"

She stopped her words abruptly, thinning her lips as if in fear that more would escape without her volition. Shaking her head again, Willow blinked back further tears and closed her eyes for a few moments, as though to keep herself from continuing to see a lingering image in her mind.

Xander felt for her. For him too it was a struggle just to sit there, to force back the bittersweet memory of Buffy's laugh, Buffy's smile, clashing in terrible juxtaposition with the look on her face as her life gave way. His arm around Faith was for himself as much as for her; if he didn't touch something, touch someone, give himself a solid reminder of where he was and what was going on in the moment, not in the surreal realm of Faith's mind, he was afraid that he would lose it entirely, either in an emotional breakdown of some kind, or into some form of insanity.

Faith didn't look at Willow, clearly uncomfortable with the other woman's emotion. She was still preoccupied with containing her own. Exhaling again, she made no effort to move out from the supporting circle of Xander's arm, even as she responded to Willow's words softly.

"Yeah." She let the word hang for several moments as Willow gathered herself, sniffing, and Xander's heart beat gradually began to slow. He could hear the rate of Faith's breathing evening out as well, but as long as she didn't pull away from him, he wouldn't move. Giles was quiet as well, still looking between them in turn, giving them time to recuperate even as the tension and bewilderment remained stretched across his features.

When all present had regained a physical calmness, if not emotional, Faith spoke with an attempt at wryness, her eyes not landing on anyone for long as she addressed Willow and Xander.

"So you finally got a front row seat to the Faith Freaks Out Show…congrats."

When neither answered her, unsure how one COULD go about answering such a statement, she went on, her voice a little softer.

"I felt you in there… didn't see you, but I felt you. Some crazy shit, huh?"

Her voice was a little unsteady, and she licked her lips, as though to quickly remedy this. Willow appeared to be fighting tears again, the horror coloring her tone strongly as she responded.

"How could you stand to, to keep SEEING that, over and over…how…"

"I couldn't," Faith said quietly as Willow's voice trailed off, and she stared down at the bed. "Still can't."

When the others turned to look at her, with new comprehension in Willow's and Xander's eyes, she finally shrugged herself out from under Xander's arm, suddenly uncomfortable by the attention. Nevertheless she remained close to him on the bed, her shoulder brushing his as she turned to regard him. "You okay, man?"

The tone was abrupt, almost gruff, but Xander could see how carefully she was watching him, saw the way her brow furrowed with concern…concern for him. Even in his continued shaken state he felt some guilt for this, that she would worry about him viewing once what had become a routine, daily occurrence for her. He didn't want her to worry about him, felt that he had no right to give her reason to. But Faith was looking right at him, could see directly into his face, and no doubt could read the lingering emotions in gaze, the fact that he had said nothing at all about Buffy since emerging from her dream. He couldn't lie to her, not even about this, or maybe especially not about this, not when it had taken such effort to win her trust.

"Honestly, no," he admitted, raising his eyes to meet hers and hold them, hoping to convey more to her than simply the words. "But…we can help her now… we can..we can make it better, right Willow?"

He glanced at the other girl, and Willow nodded, gathering conviction as she replied. "Yes…yes, and we'll find him, find him and kill him."

"I do not wish to rush things…in this instance, caution is probably a wise course to take as far as our movements go," Giles began, his eyebrows knitted with continued troubled bemusement. "I can see that your…experience… was quite traumatic. But we need to discuss whether your course of action within the dream sequence worked, and whether any new information about the Rafvik demon has been discovered… Willow, I assume that you were able to obtain the information you sought?"

"What? Oh..yes…yes, I, I traced its previous whereabouts, where it had come from before… there…and there's, there's a cave. Hidden, near the Jenkins lake area. I think…it's not actually inside the cave part, but more, inside it… like, maybe there's deeper access, or a hole in the ground. And I think… I got the sense that it had been there a long time. Maybe sleeping…or hibernating? Does it hibernate, Giles? Maybe after…after kills or something…"

"None of the research mentioned it, but then, very little is known for a fact to be true in regards to the Rafvik demon," Giles murmured, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully behind his glasses. "A cave, you say… I suppose it must be a rather tall one, considering the height that you have described of this demon."

"Cave…figures," Faith muttered, and she stood, heading for Xander's door without glancing back at the others. "Alright then, let's go."

The other three looked up at her, startled, and she paused, impatient, her hand stilling on the doorknob. "What? We know where it is, let's get some weapons and cap his ass before it's moved on to somewhere else!"

"Faith…I understand that you would like to destroy the creature as quickly as possible, all of us would," Giles tried to reason. "But we must be more cautious than this. It's dark, we are not sure how best to kill it-"

"Red here can do some mojo to light it all up," Faith interrupted, staring back at Giles with defiant determination in her gaze. "And as for killing it, I'd say we try violence."

"Yes," Giles sighed, not backing away from her stare. "And we will of course do those things when the time comes. But I believe that a couple of hours of rest and research are in order first, if we are to be as effective as possible."

This didn't go over well with Faith, as Xander could have predicted. Her eyes narrowed, and her hand tightened around the doorknob as she spoke tensely, as though needing to explain to someone who clearly didn't understand.

"Giles…we need to go NOW. She needs us."

"She needs us alive," Giles expounded upon her statement. "And that's more likely to happen when we know what we are getting into and what to do, and are calm and composed enough to do it."

Faith paused, digesting this with her confliction clear in her eyes. After a few moments she nodded, even as she continued to open the door. "Whatever. One hour then. Two tops."

She disappeared through the door, leaving the other three remaining somewhat awkwardly in Xander's bedroom. As Giles cleared his throat, letting a few moments pass before making a move to follow her, proclaiming they should begin research, Xander followed quietly, his legs somewhat rubbery at first.

Faith was standing in his kitchen, apart from the others, her back to them as she opened his cabinet, staring at the contents without really seeming to see them. Xander waited a couple of minutes; when she didn't move, he approached her slowly, coming to stand behind her.

"Hey…you okay?"

She didn't turn to face him, nor did she respond for a while. When she answered her words were low, serious, and not an answer to his question.

"I'm sorry. Didn't ever mean for you to see it."

Xander knew what she was referring to and swallowed, closing his mind against the images rising within his memory again. He shook his head, addressing her even as she still did not turn to face him.

"No…I'm…I'm glad I saw. As horrible as it was…as sick as I feel…I'm glad I saw, glad I…shared that. So I can know."

And he meant it…as he said it, as he thought about it, Xander meant it. He wished that he didn't' have to think, didn't have to remember, that everything he had seen could simply be wiped from his mind…but if Faith had to see it, then he was glad she was no longer entirely alone with that. H was glad he saw it too.

Faith was still for a moment, continuing to stare into the cabinet with intense concentration. When she turned to face him, she regarded him with her eyes somewhat hooded, yet softer, almost grateful.

"Yeah…that's…"

She cut herself off, shaking her head and raising her voice to a more normal tone and volume.

"Guess we should go do the research thing."

As she moved to join Giles and Willow, who were heading out the door, looking behind their shoulders at them, Xander followed, hoping fervently that they would do what was needed to destroy the Rafvik demon, to free Buffy's soul…to stop Faith's torment. She should never have to go through that again. None of them should. Something, however, told him that the nightmare wasn't over yet.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"Who told us we'd be rescued?

What has changed and why can't we be saved from nightmares?

We're asking why this happened to us who have died to live

It's unfair…"

"Held," Natalie Grant

"Okay…" began the brunette Slayer, one dark eyebrow arched skeptically as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her left hand propped on her left hip as she gestured at the others with her right. "So…we go in here… in the dark, having no clue how long this is, how tall or wide or stable, with water spilling into it, and the possibility that any fighting or magic done inside here could make the thing collapse on top of us and crush us all under the weight of twenty tones of rock. We look around and find… what, a hole, a trapdoor, a secret hideout inside the hideout, a bright red door with a sign saying 'Danger…' whatever, find any and all of the above. And we go under it or into it or through it, into even further underground… which could very well be another Hellmouth, for all we know… find this seven foot Rafvik thing, with octopus poison spikes… cut them off before it can stab and poison us to death…and then, as it's dying, we wait for Buffy's soul to eek out of it, somehow, we don't know how, but maybe from its chest. So we can capture it in a jar. Did I get all of this straight?"

"Except that it's a sacred vessel, sweetie, not a jar," Willow corrected her girlfriend easily, holding up the said glass container as if for evidence, and Kennedy smirked slightly, nodding, as though to acknowledge her point.

"Okay, we catch her soul in a sacred vessel, which closely resembles a jar. Did I leave anything else out here?"

"Nope," replied the second, older brunette Slayer to her left, and Faith shrugged, eyes shifting to regard the other girl briefly, her tone somewhat disinterested. "Think that about covers it."

Kennedy smiled, her eyes taking on a fierce yet undeniably anticipant and excited glint as she shifted the battle ax in her gesturing hand, her gaze moving to the dark opening before them, which was dimly lit by the magical shield of light that Willow had placed around them to guide their way.

"Alright, cool. Then let's do this."

They had found the cave easily enough, between Willow's tracing and skills with locating areas through Internet and a little magical help, once at the Jenkins lake area, to point them in the right direction. The cave had been hidden among a massive rocky quarry near the water, close enough that even now as the three women and Xander stood before its entrance, the tide's water occasionally drew up far enough to lap at their feet. It was no wonder that the cave had been unnoticed previously, as far as they knew, for a large boulder had covered its opening, fitting in quite well among the other rocks. With Kennedy's and Faith's effort, paired again with Willow's magical strength, the women had managed to move it aside, causing it to fall with a resounding crash to the smaller rocks upon the shore, smashing them open. Xander had cringed, not only at the noise and violence with which it had fallen, but also because it had occurred to him that the Rafvik demon must have moved the rock back and forth several times with its own strength alone. Not a very settling thought to have just before going to face him.

They stood, primed, before the cave's entrance, weapons ready, jaws set, clothed in appropriate gear for both bodily protection, as much as was possible, and also major ass-kicking. Gone were Faith's borrowed clothes from Xander's sleepwear, and in their place were clothes borrowed from Kennedy that, to Xander's eyes at least, looked rather similar enough to Faith's own sexy style that it seemed as if Kennedy could have borrowed them from her. It wouldn't be the first time the older Slayer had accused her of pulling a Single White Female on her looks, moves, or clothing choices.

The four stood shoulder to shoulder, almost in a line: two Slayers, the world's most powerful witch, and Xander, a man who carried no such title beyond being their dedicated and determined companion. And yet none of the three questioned his place beside them, and for the moment at least, neither did he.

Giles was not with them, not for this fight. Not only would he likely be of little real use in battle, despite his skill with a sword, but there was Dawn to think about as well now. Though she was almost eighteen years old, it had been agreed among them that she was not, whatever her desire to the contrary might be, to take part in this particular battle, nor was she to know its significance, at least until after it was over. They could not think or speak of the possibility that it might not ever really be over, not over in the way that they desired. Kennedy had disagreed, believing that she should, as Buffy's sister, be informed, that she should have a right to help if she chose to, but the others had overruled her. Dawn was the last Summers woman left, the last blood link to Buffy, and they would consider nothing else but to protect her, for their own ease of mind and heart…and for Buffy. If somehow they failed in saving Buffy, then at the very least they would keep her sister safe.

And so Giles had stayed behind, stayed with Dawn, as the four of them set off. Xander didn't' envy him his task either. To keep a Summers woman contained when all the while she knew she was being restrained, being guarded from something she didn't understand, was almost as dangerous a task as the one that they were about to undertake.

Xander took a moment to look at each of the women beside him in turn, examining them, and a quick yet fierce pride to be with them now, to stand at their sides, gripped his chest. Kennedy, small and finely muscled, her eyes serious and intent even as a small smile curled up the corners of her lips… Willow, her face set in determined concentrated lines, a strand of red hair falling across her eyes as she took her girlfriend's hand and squeezed it quickly. And Faith… Faith, beside him too, her lips thinned, eyes narrowed with ferocious, almost savage intentions as her hand wrapped more tightly around her ax, her chin raising to meet the future head on.

If there had only been Buffy, this moment would be one to savor… but without her, bittersweet pride was the best that could be obtained, and Xander broke himself from his thoughts, calling out to them.

"Everyone knows what to do and where to go once we find it, right?"

"We've got it," Faith said shortly, barely sparing him a glance. "Willow hits it with as many blocks and freezes as she can, defends us and attacks it with magic. Me and Kennedy kick its ass, cut off the spikes, and kill it. You stand back, watch our backs, and get in blows where you can. Everyone got it? Good. Let's listen to Junior here then, and go."

She jerked her head towards the entrance of the cave, her expression tough, business like. But Xander saw that her knuckles were white around her ax, saw that she swallowed subtly after speaking, and knew her nerves. He met her eyes, tried to give her a reassuring smile, though his own heart was racing, his hands sweaty around his own ax. Faith didn't smile back, but her eyes softened slightly. This was enough.

Willow looked over at Kennedy, and though her face showed as much resolve as Faith's, her voice was soft as she addressed her girlfriend.

"You ready to roll, baby?"

"Always," Kennedy assured her, smiling back briefly but genuinely. She gave the other woman a quick kiss, taking her hand and squeezing it, and then turned to Faith. "Lead the way, General Custer."

Faith stared at her, clearly not knowing who she was referring to; Xander had to admit that he didn't either. Shrugging it off as the entirely unimportant comment that it was, she stepped inside the cave. Willow followed closely behind, casting a light before them, and Xander and Kennedy took up the rear, the four of them keeping a slight distance between each other.

Xander wished momentarily as his feet crossed the threshold of the cave's entrance that he could turn back time, just for a moment. He wished that more had passed between Faith and him before they stepped inside, officially entering the zone of danger. He wished he had touched her in some way, put a hand on her shoulder, patted her back, even squeezed her hand… maybe even hugged her. Anything to tactilely express hope and strength for what was to come. It was too late now, and he only hoped she had seen in his smile what he had not expressed in touch or words… which was what? Even Xander didn't know.

There was water on the floor of the cave, sloshing at their feet as the four made their way forward, and they moved slowly, looking all about them, searching for something, anything, that might conceal the sort of underground opening that Willow had described. The walls were wide, craggy, the ceilings damp and slimy, and their footsteps echoed among the high overhead. So far there had been a decided lack of scary in the cave's interior, but Xander knew that this would not last for long.

He kept glancing all around himself not only for the hidden entranceway, but also at the others, particularly Faith, as they moved through the cave. Though she was ahead of him, her face turned away, her movements slow yet powerful, focused, Xander knew that Faith must be anxious, even afraid, as he was. Not for herself or for her life, of course, but for theirs…for the possibility that she would fail, again, to defeat the Rafvik demon, this time in reality. That she would fail Buffy.

Xander's heart was beating a little too fast and loudly for his liking, and he focused his attention on the task ahead. It was so quiet in the cave, nothing but the sound of their footsteps, the water splashing as they moved through it, the heightened echoes of their breaths in the cave's stillness… and he wondered. Surely if the Rafvik demon was inside, it could hear their approach, as would any other creatures lurking in its depths. What if it was lying in wait for them, ready to attack, what if it was-

"Here," Faith said suddenly, coming to a stop, and she touched part of the wall of the cave, tracing how the rocky lining was broken, sticking out in a large bulge, as if the wall could be separated. "No clue how it did this without making the whole thing crash down on his head..but this has gotta be it."

Her face was still, her eyes dark, unreadable even in the light that Willow cast about them. As the other women too lightly touched the rock, then looked back at her, Xander spoke up quietly to them all.

"I guess it's like the cave entrance… can you move it in the same way?"

"It's not as heavy or dense," Willow replied, still tracing the rock's surface experimentally, her eyes focused on her finger's path. "There's no need to manually move it. I can disintegrate it away…and that way, there won't be any chances of it blocking our path on the way out, if anything happened where we might need to get out of here pretty fast."

Her words were vaguely put, but they all understood her meaning. If anyone was hurt, anyone dead or dying, and needing to be carried out…if they failed, and they needed to flee… then a rock in their paths of that size might be the difference between life and death.

Faith nodded with one abrupt motion, her voice terse. "Will that drain too much from you?"

"Don't worry," Willow assured her, and a grim smiled twisted her lips at the corners as her eyes narrowed, their irises darkening. "This is nothing. This is just the beginning."

As she turned to fully face the rock's wall's opening, her posture open and confident, face leveled straight ahead, the others backed up, hands readjusting their grips on their weapons, eyes focused ahead. They were ready.

The wall shook, the air around it growing heavy, dense with expectation as Willow spoke, stretching out her hands. Within moments the bumped out area before them cracked, then broke apart, scattering at their feet in pieces before breaking down further, dissolving into dust that separated off to the side and blew further down into the cave. Casting her magical light into the large room that stood open before them, Willow did not look back at the others as she beckoned them ahead. Faith, then Kennedy, stepped through with no hesitation, and Xander followed behind Willow, his eyes widening involuntarily, stomach flipping as his eyes came to rest for the first time in reality on the Rafvik demon, which was beginning to stand, slowly uncurling itself to its full height as it stared down the intruders to its habitat.

After that, everything seemed to Xander to move in a rapid blur of action and sound, color and confusion, and he didn't know what had happened first. He tried to watch everyone at once, as well as to defend his own self and protect others too, but everything was moving so quickly he could barely keep his eyes on one woman, let alone three.

Faith and Kennedy were circling the room, darting about with amazing speed as they lunged at the Rafvik demon, slashing out at it with their weapons and then withdrawing out of reach, at times very narrowly escaping the touch of its appendages. Willow stood back, chanting continuously, her eyes dark with her magic and concentration, sending spells hurled at it constantly so that the air was electric with energy. And all around them was the constant rush of movement of Faith and Kennedy, slashing, darting, fighting, the Rafvik demon oddly silent even as it followed, lashing out at them with a speed its size belied.

He listened to their yells and grunts as they fought, to the sickening sound of their blades slicing through the Rafvik demon's skin, cutting deeply, and the Slayers' gleeful shouts of triumph when their slicing hit the mark intended. He heard Willow's voice calling out above them all, her chanting loud, intense, and completely incomprehensible to him. He saw the way that the general light she had created to illuminate the area was now joined by flashing beacons of color that sparkled brightly in multitudes of color, surrounding the Slayers, Willow, and the Rafvik demon. He was vaguely aware of the scent of the demon's blood, a dank mustiness combined with the saltiness he suspected was their sweat paired with the cave's interior, and the sweet smell that usually emanated from Willow when she was performing serious magic, something like jasmine. All of this was too much to process, too much to keep up with, and Xander felt like his brain was on overload in his effort to see and hear it all.

Standing among the chaos, Xander began to feel rather useless. Compared to the others, he was not truly an active participant of this battle, nor had it really been intended for him to be. He was holding an ax, yes, but he had used it to strike out at the demon only twice, when its tentacles had come too close to his position- and both times, he had missed. The demon hadn't even been trying to hurt him. It hadn't attacked him, hadn't paid any attention to Xander at all since they had first broke into its lair. Of course, this could be because it was so busy defending itself from Faith's and Kennedy's vigorous attacks and Willow's continued run of spells and curses. But Xander suspected that the main reason was because he posed such little threat to it that the demon could care less about his presence, wouldn't deign to notice him. The creature sensed that Xander was not the opponent that it should devote its energy toward destroying.

On one hand that was a relief, for that meant Xander was free to worry about the women and watch them rather than worry exclusively about his own safety. But on the other hand it was rather unsettling. He might be watching them, but other than to call out a warning or push someone out of harm's way, maybe succeed at cutting off an appendage or two if he were lucky, what else could he really do to help? He couldn't do magic as Willow could, and he certainly couldn't move with near the speed, grace, or skill of Kennedy and Faith while in battle. Hell, even though he worked out regularly now and was more skilled in combat knowledge than he had ever been in his life, Xander still had only one eye, still would not be able to move nearly as quickly or effectively as was needed in face of this creature. All he could do was stay to the side, getting his swings in when he could, and watch, his heart pounding, mouth dry as sandpaper.

Within ten minutes Xander had noticed that most of the Rafvik's many long, fast moving appendages were gone, their hacked off pieces lying on the floor at the feet as Kennedy and Faith raced in and out among them, swinging out in vicious attempts to add to the carnage. In fact there were only three spikes left, though the three continued to lash out wildly, coiling in toward its torso and then stabbing out again. It had slashed through Kennedy's jacket and Faith's jacket sleeve at one point, causing Xander's heart to lurch in alarm, but both times, the girls had managed to move away before it could break the skin. Still, the close calls had horrified him to the point that he found his lips moving to chant along with Willow, though entirely different words, his words were not curses, but rather silent prayers, an urging to whatever fates might be at hand to spare them.

Three spikes left… that was nothing. It was almost over now. Surely the girls could take them off with no problem, surely…

As Faith lopped off one of the remaining three appendages, sending blood spattering outward onto her shirt, she grinned widely, genuinely seeming to revel in the moment, to savor the victory at her hand, just within her grasp. For surely they would be victorious. There were only two appendages left now, and surely they could find a way to kill it for good then, to stab it deeply enough to end their efforts and catch Buffy's soul. Just a few minutes…

Faith's head turned briefly, and for a split second she caught his eye with hers. They both smiled, that short, wordless exchange showing pride, relief, affection, and excitement, certainty, an anticipation of what they both knew was to come… the undeniable victory that was soon to be theirs.

Xander never saw the Rafvik demon spin away from Kennedy's swing of the ax, out of reach of its blade, out of reach of the curse Willow had just aimed in its direction. He never saw it appear to his left side, never saw Willow whip around, her hand stretching out in effort to redirect her words. He was looking at Faith, and this was where his focus continued. Even when he saw her eyes widen, her features tightening as her mouth opened into a frantic scream, he didn't understand until he felt the white hot pain of the Rafvik demon's second remaining appendage beginning to penetrate his skin.

Xander wasn't aware of Faith's body colliding with his, knocking him to the ground and away from the demon with such force that the breath was knocked out of him. He wasn't aware of Kennedy's ax savagely connecting with the Rafvik demon's remaining appendages, of the wet plopping noise they made as they fell to the floor. He wasn't aware of Willow's renewal of magic aimed in their direction, of the glittering red light surrounding him on the ground. All he could process into his consciousness as his mind began to slip away into blackness was a faint feeling of someone's body against his, warm, heavy, protective… and what sounded oddly like the distant noise of someone far, far away, frantically repeating his name.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"I don't want to be saved

I want to go down with you

Together we will find a way to come back"

"I won't tell you," Lacuna Coil

After the first few moments of groggy disorientation and slightly blurred vision upon regaining consciousness, the first feeling that Xander could identify as experiencing was shock…simple disbelief that he had awakened at all, that it seemed, from what he could tell, that he was alive. He had not expected that… he had not expected anything at all, and as his mind spun, his thoughts tripping over themselves as he attempted to make sense of his memories in light of what seemed to be the present for him now, he began to remember, to register what was going on around him. The cave- the demon, Buffy's soul- falling, a body on his, but the pain, hot coursing of pain in his back… he had not been stabbed, it had stabbed him, it had to have stabbed him.

But then why was he here…why was he still alive?

He realized gradually that he was in bed, his bed, he clarified to himself, recognizing the dark blue sheets. He was lying on his stomach, his face turned to one side, and he was shirtless. He could feel the sheet now, lightly resting against his skin. As he focused on this, Xander became more intently aware of the throbbing in his back, a warm yet low-grade pain that persisted, settling heavily into an aching in his limbs. He felt warm, sluggish…but he was alive. Somehow he was alive.

He heard someone scramble to their feet, sounding as if they'd knocked a chair over in the process, and when the person gasped, Xander knew that it was Faith. A brief memory came to him then, the shrillness of her scream mingled with sharp hurt as his flesh split, and he turned his head, wanting to roll over, to sit up, to get a better look at her. Faith…

"Faith," Xander called to her, his voice raspy, less certain or strong than he would have liked, and there she was, standing over him, her eyes wide and shining with her disbelief at his words. Her face had a few shallow cuts, and her hair was a disheveled mass of tangles hanging over her cheeks. She just stared at him, full lips slightly parted, the weary misery in her features shifting into a rapidly rising emotional sentiment, her eyes holding a mass of conflicting thought.

"Faith?" Xander called again, beginning to grow worried when she just continued to stare at him, unmoving, not speaking. "Faith…are you okay…what's…"

"Xander…you're awake," she said, her voice barely loud enough to be heard, and so husky in tone that he wondered with slightly foggy renewed confusion and concern if she were sick, or had injured her throat. He was about to ask her again if she were okay when Faith suddenly grabbed his hand in both of hers, squeezing it so tightly that Xander gasped in pain, his eyebrows shooting upward.

Faith didn't' seem to notice this reaction. Holding his hand hard in hers, squeezing it again in enthusiastic affection, she stood as close to him on the bed as she could get without climbing onto it, bending over him as she began to pound him with questions, her voice rising into an excited pitch that shocked Xander as much as anything else about her behavior…for she sounded more like a sophomore cheerleader than the Faith he knew. She smiled widely, her features relaxing, dimples showing in her cheeks, and she laughed even as her eyes glinted with what looked like Xander's rather flabbergasted observation like unshed tears, even in the face of her obvious relief upon his revival.

"You're awake. God, you're awake… does it hurt? Is it bad? The venom's gone now, or, Willow said it should be, but we couldn't know for sure until you woke up. Do you remember anything? Do you remember what happened? Are you alright, you feel alright?"

"Hold on…and can I just say WHOA?" he said in genuine shock at this onslaught of words, his eyes widening as he gawked at Faith, unable to connect the slew of questions as coming from her. Faith, who had never babbled, at least in all his years of previous experience. "Still waking up here…still adjusting to the no-more-sleep kind of thing that happens when you stop sleeping…"

"You're okay." Faith's voice hit a particularly loud note at that proclamation, and she squeezed his hand rather painfully again, the dimples returning into sight as she smiled. She made an awkward gesture, and for a moment Xander thought she was going to try to hug him, even though as he was lying on his stomach, it would be extremely uncomfortable and possibly impossible for him to hug her back. Instead, she let go of his hand slowly, jerking her head towards the door.

"I'll, I'll get Willow… she should come look at you…Willow!"

Faith moved quickly toward the door, her movements much less graceful and commanding than usual, and Xander didn't miss her quickly rub a hand across her eyes as she faced the door, calling out to the other woman again as she opened it. Xander stared at her, still frowning, perplexed, just watching. Was it just because of the lingering grogginess he was feeling, or was this weird? He had never seen her like this before… even in the face of everything, to see Faith acting almost GIRLY? To hear her babble like that…for him? He didn't know whether to be flattered, worried, or just plain confused. Yeah, he'd been hurt…obviously…he guessed…maybe she had thought he was going to die or something…hell, he'd thought he was going to die. But still… her reaction surprised him, and he wasn't sure how to respond to it.

Had he heard her make a noise that sounded almost like a SQUEAL when she knew he was okay? Surely that part was imagined…

Willow entered the room quickly, her expression somewhat anxious at first, but she too gave way to smiles as soon as she saw Xander. She came over to his side, tenderly brushing her hand through his hair as she looked at him.

"You're up…this is great, we weren't sure how long it would be. How do you feel, do you feel okay? Do you hurt?"

"Not very much," he replied, finding it awkward to look at her in his current position, and even more so to look past her at Faith, who was still standing in the doorway, seemingly unable to remain still as she shifted her weight back and forth and constantly readjusted the way she held her arms and what she did with her hands. "What…what exactly happened?"

"Is he alright? He's alright, right?" Faith asked Willow quickly, her forehead creasing, some of her initial anxiety returning to her features as she turned towards the redhead, halting her restless movements for the moment. "He still remembers who he is and everything, right? You said he wasn't gonna have brain damage or that memory thing, anesthesia- he remembered my name, so he can't have that."

"I think you mean amnesia," Willow corrected, and she gave Faith a brief small smile before turning back to regard Xander. "You should be fine. Sore for a little while, maybe confused, but he'll be okay, right, Xander? Let me just look at your back for a minute…"

She moved aside his sheet, and within a few moments Xander could feel her fingers lightly touching his back, in the area surrounding his wound rather than on the direct source of the injury. She asked him a few questions about his pain level and duration, and then, satisfied with his answers, took her hand away, smiling at first him, then Faith, her eyes glistening with quiet relief and happiness.

"It looks like it's healing nicely, the healing spells must have helped with that. Sped it up a little. You should be totally better in a day or two. It's just the lingering effects of the venom being flushed out of your system that might make you a little achy and groggy. And the being unconscious part, of course."

"But it's going out, right?" Faith asked quickly, the crease between her eyebrows deepening as she regarded Willow intently. "He's gonna have it totally gone?"

"Yes, it is, he'll be okay," Willow assured her again, and there was some curiosity in her eyes, in the way she held her mouth as she watched the other girl. "Faith, why don't you go get him some water or something, he's probably thirsty."

To Xander's amazement, the brunette quickly left to do so without a word of protest or sarcasm in reply. As far as he could recollect, Faith had never, for as long as he had known her, acquiesced to a request from Willow without at the very least having something to say about it. He watched her leave with such a startled expression that Willow laughed softly, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

"Yeah, I know…kinda weird, isn't it. She's been worried sick, Xan, almost literally. All of us have been, of course…but gods, Faith was something else all together. You should have seen her."

"I'm glad I didn't," Xander said, with more feeling in his voice than he had intended, and Willow looked up at him with her forehead wrinkling slightly, her voice hesitant.

"Xander… you and Faith, you two, are you…"

She let her voice trail off, not finishing her sentence as her eyes slid away, and the awkwardness of her question was underscored by the intensity of her wait for his answer. Xander paused, not sure exactly what she was asking, or what his response would be even if he did know. What he really needed was to talk to Faith.

"Will…where's Giles?" he asked instead as he realized suddenly that the older man had not yet made an appearance into the room. "And Kennedy- is she okay?"

"Oh, he's okay, he's at his house right now, researching- I better call and let him know you're awake," Willow exclaimed, thankfully to Xander's mind getting sidetracked from her previous line of questioning. " And Ken's okay too. She's at the Slayer's headquarters now, holding down the fort. I'm going to have to call her too, but yeah, she's okay," Willow smiled, her eyes almost glowing as she met Xander's gaze. "Everyone got out of there. Didn't know if that would happen for a while when we were inside."

"And…the demon…" Xander started, almost holding his breath at this. "The demon, did you guys…"

"Dead. Kennedy got it," Willow filled him in, and her smile brightened even more, the pride in her tone and expression obvious. "She was amazing, Xander, right after she saw that you were down, she just went at it with her ax, and bam! Dead demon. I was-"

"Willow…" Xander interrupted, shaking his head slowly and flinching at the momentary dizziness that it invoked. Already his neck was beginning to get a crick from trying to look at her from such an awkward angle, and her words were sailing over his head, meshing into a confusing tangle that he could not entirely process. "So the demon's dead…what about…did you get Buffy's soul?"

Willow nodded, her eyes fairly dancing with eagerness, and she leaned a little closer to Xander from her perch on his bed. Even as Xander's heart squeezed with joy at her affirmation, and he smiled, his mind already considering the possibilities, savoring her response, a small part of him hesitated, holding back from being able to fully rejoice. There was something about the fervent gleam in her eyes, the wideness of her excited smile, that almost unsettled him. He didn't quite understand why that was. Maybe it was just his lingering grogginess, like with Faith, making everything seem a little distant and confusing.

"We have that too, I got it just after Kennedy killed the Rafvik demon. I have a protective shield spell around it now to keep it from being touched or broken or spilled, or tampered with in any way. We can't risk any accidents right now. Not now, not when we can bring her back."

Xander had barely managed to convince himself that yes, he had heard her right, let alone form any sort of coherent response, before Faith re-entered the room, carrying a bottle of water in one hand. It had taken her a considerable amount of time to retrieve it considering how quickly she had left the room and how close his kitchen was in his small apartment. It wasn't just this that Xander noted, however, but also the total change in her demeanor.

There were no more smiles or babbling questions as to Xander's condition, no more fidgeting gestures or relieved, relaxed postures from Faith now. In fact, she strode into the room with the swaggering, nearly aggressive manner that had been typical of her before the last couple of weeks, her head lifted, eyes narrowed, guarded now, her features closed off, almost hostile. The change in her behavior was so startling that both Xander and Willow blinked, staring, before they could catch themselves. She didn't even fully approach Xander's bed, nor did she hand him the bottle, but instead tossed it next to his head, nearly hitting him, and crossed her arms, leaning against the doorway and leveling him with a hooded expression that was nearly a scowl.

Xander stared at her the best that he could from his position on his stomach, craning his neck to turn it towards the door. If he had thought he was confused by her behavior before, that was nothing compared to what he was feeling watching her now. The phrase "Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde," entered his mind, but he quickly pushed that away. Maybe Faith was mad at him? But what had he done in the past few minutes from the time she left and re-entered the room to piss her off?

"Uh…thanks," he said in response to her water-flinging, not sure how else to respond…or how he was supposed to drink it while lying flat on his back.

Faith rolled her eyes, to Xander's further confusion. What was with her?

"Yeah, good luck drinking it, you're like a turtle on its fucking back," she muttered, and Xander frowned, unable for a few moments to come up with a response. Willow too looked at her with her earlier excitement tampered with puzzled disapproval, and with Faith's arrival and sudden attitude, she and Xander were sidetracked from pursuing Willow's earlier declaration.

"Yeah…only on my stomach, not my back," Xander said, still frowning. "Um, Faith…are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied with a layer of snappish sarcasm that was so thick it would have required three pickaxes to remove. Her eyebrows slanted inward toward her nose, and her fingers began to noticeably exert more pressure on her crossed arms, as if she were trying to contain herself from putting pressure on something else. Or someone else.

"Just fine," Faith repeated, a little more loudly and emphatically this time, each word deliberately pronounced. "Five by fuckin' five."

Willow and Xander looked at each other, at a loss as to how to respond to that obvious proclamation to the contrary. Willow's lips thinned slightly, her eyes shifting towards the seething, dangerous-looking Slayer still skulking with glowering eyes in the doorway, but she chose not to reply or challenge Faith, likely a wise decision.

Xander too didn't know what to say to Faith, if anything, particularly with Willow in the room; he was still attempting to make sense of everything that had happened in the past few…what, hours? Days? He didn't even know how long he'd been out, whether he had been merely unconscious or comatose. It might have been easier for him to understand Faith's behavior had he been more fully functioning, focused, but as it was, he was still unclear about what had happened and what that meant for the present. And Faith morphing from mood to mood with Sybil-like skill was doing nothing to clear things up for him.

Then there was the fact that her turtle-on-its-back comment had been fairly accurate…and Xander /was/ thirsty. He decided to take care of that first. Whatever was going on with Faith, if she didn't make it known soon, then it could wait until he could talk to her alone. His mouth was so dry right now that he could barely form saliva, so he looked between Willow and Faith the best he could as he replied to Faith's comment.

"Um…okay… thanks again for the water, Faith, but think I'm gonna need a little help to be able to drink it. Can someone…"

"Oh, of course," Willow said quickly, giving him an apologetic smile, and she moved to help him, first giving him a quick additional healing touch before carefully supporting him in rolling over and sitting up. Even with her extra healing spell and her assistance, Xander's back protested the movement. However, once he was sitting up and had drank a good portion of the water in the bottle, he had to admit that he felt better, more clear-headed, and that even the pain in his back had subsided. It seemed that Willow was right; he should try to move around a little more, as long as he didn't overdo it, and see if it helped him, once he had some time to do so.

When Xander looked up, having drained three quarters of the water bottle quickly, he realized that Faith had disappeared from the doorway without so much as a comment to indicate where she was going. Frowning, more concerned now than puzzled, Xander turned his head to Willow, who had sat again on the edge of his bed after helping him, silently questioning. Willow sighed, keeping her voice low and glancing quickly at the door, perhaps concerned that if Faith were still stalking about Xander's apartment, she would be able to hear her talking about her.

"I don't know either, she's Faith. She's been freaking since you…well, you know…freaked me out too. Not just you, though of course that was major freakage there too. But her…" she shifted her eyes towards the door again, her eyes widening slightly as they moved back to Xander's face. "Not exactly Miss Predictable with that, you know?"

Her brow furrowed, and she peered at Xander even more closely as her eyes darkened suspiciously. "Wait a minute here… you were all avoid-y on my question about you and Faith. What is exactly is going on with you guys? Well, not EXACTLY, I don't want to know EXACTLY, because, just, ew, don't' want details there. But…with the cuddling…and the Faith freaking, and the spark- there was sparkage, Xander, don't think I didn't notice the sparkage. Are you guys…"

She didn't finish the question, but it was hardly necessary. The look in her eyes told him that she was already convinced that she already knew the answers. The irony was that she was wrong, or at least, Xander was pretty sure she was wrong. All he knew at the moment was that he felt he had no answers whatsoever, and this was a good enough reason to avoid the line of questioning for a second time.

"Will…when we went in the cave, and I got stabbed… how did I end up here? Were you able to heal me enough that … well, so that I'm still here?"

"Don't think I can't see through that little sidestep maneuver," Willow leveled, rolling her eyes, but she gave in, allowing him to redirect the course of questioning. "The answer is yes and no, really. The Rafvik guy did stab you, but only a little bit- it barely broke through your skin. The wound isn't serious at all, it's the venom that it released into you that's so dangerous."

"And that got into me," Xander digested, finishing off the rest of the water as he thought about it. "Then how…"

"I froze time around your wound so the damage wouldn't progress any further. Kennedy killed it, and we got you here, and I got to work with Giles, maintaining the static condition of you wound, and then finding spells to counteract the venom and begin to heal you. It was scary there for a while, but we got through it, thank the gods, and you're going to be okay," Willow smiled. She reached for his hand, squeezing it affectionately. "And so will-"

"Notice you left me out of the merry little tale," came Faith's dry, still highly sardonic voice from the doorway, and Willow and Xander looked over at her. She had one hand raised over her head, gripping the doorframe, one hip cocked forward, her hand resting on it as she regarded them with controlled yet smoldering gaze.

Willow frowned at her slightly but replied lightly, not arguing. "Right, and Faith knocked you away from being stabbed any more deeply than you already had been. Combined effort, right, Faith?"

Faith just rolled her eyes. Xander hadn't expected her to reply, given her mood, but he smiled at her tentatively anyway, bothered by her behavior.

"Thanks for that… you didn't get hurt?"

"My back's all in one piece, unlike some people's," she snapped, her eyes fixed hard on first him, then Willow, before she addressed the redhead. "Willow, I think you oughtta go call Giles and Ken and them, let them know how it went down and that Xander's awake, alright?"

Her words were abrupt, almost angry, and certainly more of a command than a statement or suggestion. Willow looked over at her with a continued frown at her tone, seeming to want to be diplomatic, but also not taking very kindly to her dictating.

"I'm going to, Faith, of course I'll call and tell them. But I thought that first maybe Xander-"

"Now," Faith interrupted, and there was no room for further negotiating in her voice, in the way she flatly met Willow's gaze. "You need to call them now."

For a minute Willow looked as though she might argue, as though she might snap back at her for her tone, match her aggression with hostility of her own. She opened her mouth, her eyes narrowed slightly, and then, letting her gaze shift to Xander, exhaled, seeming to come to the decision that backing off would be a better option. She inclined her head, not fully meeting Faith's eyes, and addressed them both as she stood.

"Yeah, I guess I should probably go call them… I don't know if Giles has explained anything to Dawn yet, and I'm sure she's worried. I guess I'll just go…do that…"

She let her eyes flicker between Faith and Xander for a minute as she made her way to the door, obviously curious about what it was about to take place between them. Her expression simultaneously showed her reluctance to leave Xander to either face Faith's wrath or passion, and yet also an eagerness to leave whatever she had in mind, certain it wouldn't be pleasant. As Willow passed Faith in the doorway, the other woman didn't' give her much space. Instead, she remained mostly blocking the door so that the redhead had to practically press herself against the doorframe to be able to exit touching her as little as possible.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"I can't stop, don't care if I lose

Baby, you are the weapon I choose

These wounds are self-inflicted

I'm going down in flames for you

Baby, you are the weapon I choose

These wounds are self-inflicted-

One more thing I'm addicted to"

"Self-inflicted," Katy Perry

Faith waited until Willow was out of the room, her face as impassive as was possible for a person still sending out body language that nearly screamed aggression, whose eyes were darker even than normal and narrowed noticeably. She waited until Willow was a couple of steps out of range and then slammed the door so harshly that Xander jumped, feeling his back protest this sudden, jerky motion as a result. When Faith turned back to face him, there was no longer any attempts whatsoever to remain controlled and emotionally distant in her expression. She strode over to his beside in long, nearly menacing steps, and her arms were not crossed, not resting with her hands on her hips, but rather gesturing emphatically in undetermined directions as her eyes burned into his, her eyebrows slanting angrily in towards her nose.

"Are you out of your fuckin' mind?! What the hell, what the FUCK were you thinking?! FUCK, Xander!"

Xander had expected a confrontation or confession of some kind from her, though what kind, he'd had no idea… but this, this certainly hadn't been it. He gaped at Faith, dumbfounded… and also, beginning to feel some anger. What RIGHT did she have to be angry at him, what exactly was it that he had done?

"What are you talking about?" he said with some defensiveness rising in his voice, sitting up a little straighter unconsciously in his bed. "I didn't do anything, Faith, so what are you so pissed off for?"

"You didn't- oh you've gotta be shitting me. You didn't DO anything?" Faith said incredulously, and her eyes narrowed further, her voice rising as she leaned towards him intently, as if she were restraining herself from reaching out to choke him. "You think you didn't DO anything?! You almost got your sorry ass impaled, Xander, you think that's not fuckin' doing anything?!"

"What?! How the hell can you blame that on me, it wasn't like I was standing there, jumping up and down and waving my arms, shouting for it to pick me, and wearing a red shirt that said 'Choose Victim Here,' Faith!" Xander sputtered, and his voice was growing louder too, his efforts to maintain calm and cool in the face of Faith's anger not working very well in the reality of the situation. He tried to tell himself to lower his voice, to talk to her rationally, to try to figure out why she was angry, what was going through her mind in the moment. But all he could think of was how weirdly she was behaving, how unfair it was of her to accuse him, and reason simply seemed unfounded.

"You might as well have!" Faith shot back, flinging out one hand in a disgusted yet also defensive gesture as her voice climbed in volume even further, her face flushing. Her body was taut with her barely controlled anger, her expression so dark, nearly dangerous in feeling, that Xander would normally have gulped and backed down. But not this time, not now, when it made no sense, when she had no REASON to act like this.

"That was practically what you were doing! You were just standing there, Mr. Defenseless, a sitting duck, no, a fuckin' standing, stupid duck who wants to play with the big guys, play at being a big hero, when he can't even watch his own back-"

"Hey!" Xander yelped, hurt, and more than a little offended by this, and he shoved the blanket aside, wanting to stand to face her but knowing that his back would not cooperate with his desires. "That's uncalled for, Faith, that's below the belt! And you seemed perfectly fine with me coming as it was happening, all of you were perfectly okay with me coming, not one of you said anything about me being a useless duck then!"

Faith didn't respond to that; she didn't seem to feel it merited a response. Instead she continued to rail at him without bothering to try to speak in a calmer fashion.

"How could you be so fucking STUPID?! You moron, you just go in there like you can really keep up with the rest of us, like you can really protect yourself and take care of yourself, like you're not totally gonna let the thing make you a fuckin' shiskabob! You make us all have to watch you and worry about you because you're so damn helpless, you make us all have to watch out for you when we should just be worrying about our own asses! What is with you, Xander, you have delusions of grandeur or something, you feel jealous or something 'cause all the girls can beat the shit out of you and you know it? Or do you just have a death wish or something?"

Xander couldn't believe what he was hearing…and who he was hearing it from. Never mind how true or untrue were Faith's words- and for the record, OUCH with that- besides any of that and how untruthful or truthful they might be, besides the dubiousness of whether he had actually done anything that gave her a right to be angry, even if he had, how could she be angry at him because of it? Maybe- and that was a huge MAYBE- he had screwed up one time, maybe he had done something stupid or self-destructive. But even if he had, and he hadn't, not in the way that Faith was saying anyway, then who was she to be all self-righteous and pissed off about it anyway? He'd spent the last several days watching her back, picking up after her messes, taking care of her because she couldn't or wouldn't care for herself, and Faith was going to go off on HIM, call HIM self-destructive, when SHE was the one he'd been having to keep practically on suicide watch?! Where the hell did she get off on saying any of that to anyone, let alone the guy who was probably most of the reason that she was standing there alive to say it?

Xander's anger rose so strongly in him then that his veins pulsed with hot erratic rhythm, his chest felt tight and compressed as his heart rammed hard against his ribcage, and he felt overheated, his clothes suddenly too tight, too small, too suffocating to contain him. Before he could stop himself words were spilling forth from him, aimed to cut Faith directly to her core, to send jagged barbs into her accusations at him that would redirect them fully back onto her own self.

"Excuse me, Faith, but you're one to talk about stupidity. If I remember right, if I'm not too moronic and stupid to recall, just a couple of days ago it was YOU who couldn't protect or take care of herself, YOU who had to make ME watch out for and worry about you because YOU couldn't protect your own ass! You want to talk about putting yourself in dangerous situations where you can't fight back? Who was it that got herself so wasted she almost got herself killed by an amateur vampire? Who was it that got herself so totally trashed that she couldn't fend off a human, so total shit-faced that she passed out on my doorstep? That wasn't ME, Faith! Maybe I can't kill demons and ghouls like you can, maybe you can take him out better and faster even if you're falling down drunk, but we'll never know since every time you test the theory, it's me and my slow, sober, HELPLESS ass hauling YOUR ass out of it! You want to talk about having a death wish, well, what the hell do you call yours then, a death BEGGING, a death PLEA? Yeah, Buffy will be really proud if you kill yourself just to be with her!"

As soon as the words were out in the open, already out in the air, seeming to echo menacingly around them, Xander knew he had gone too far. He could see it in the strickeness of Faith's face, the way she froze, her coloring paling, her mouth opening and closing again, not forming words, as she stared at him, too shocked, too gutted by his attack to respond. She didn't move immediately, didn't' seem to possess the capacity for words, and Xander's heart almost stopped, lurching sickeningly at the pain spreading across her features, originating in the surface of her eyes, and spreading down to change the rest of her posture. He wanted to go to her, to hug her and apologize, to take back his words and that horrible wounded look he had put in Faith's eyes. But he couldn't move, and though he knew he had better take his words back immediately, before the damage deepened, Xander stumbled, so horrified at himself that he couldn't think of words to say.

"Faith…Faith, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I shouldn't have…I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I-"

"Fuck you, Xander," she said, and the terrible thing about her words were not the words at all. What made sudden tears sting behind Xander's eyes was the way she said them… without rage or hatred, without resentment or yelling. Faith looked him in the eye and spoke with a soft, uneven tone that held back tears every bit as fiercely as her eyes. Nothing could have made Xander hurt more intensely or hate himself more.

He was going to lose her…he knew, with sudden, terrified clarity that in this moment he could lose Faith forever. Her trust in him, her affection towards him, any feelings whatsoever other than hatred that she might harbor…he could lose it all through no one's fault but his own, for the very moronic stupidity and self-destructiveness that she had accused him of showing. She could run now, could leave forever and never contact him again, never let anyone know if she was okay, all because of him…

The panic at the thought of this possibility was sudden and intense, and Xander spoke to her again, his gaze meeting hers pleadingly, his voice cracking with his regret.

"Faith…please. I'm sorry. I never should have said that, any of that. You're right. I'm an idiot. You were right, Faith…I'm sorry."

She remained motionless for a couple of minutes, long, agonizing spaces of time to Xander as he waited, praying for her to respond, for her not to turn and walk away. She continued to stare at him with naked feeling in her face, and when she spoke, her voice still shook slightly.

"You're an asshole, Xander. You're a fucking bastard to say that to me."

"I know," he said quietly, not looking away from her, just hoping that he would be lucky, that she was going to stay, going to let him try one more time to repair the damage he had caused. "I am. I'm sorry."

"I should leave," Faith said in the same quiet tone, even as her voice strove for conviction, strove for aggression that did not come across in her expression. "Should just fuckin' leave, right now."

"I wouldn't blame you," Xander told her softly, his gaze not leaving hers, afraid to break eye contact first for fear that if he did look away, she would run. "But please…don't, Faith. Please? I'm sorry."

He exhaled, swallowing, his throat sticking, his heart thudding steadily in his chest. When she did not respond, he tried again, the words difficult to speak even in their earnestness.

"I…I need you, Faith. And you need someone too right now. I'm sorry I was angry, I'm sorry I said that, I had no right. I…I was scared, Faith. In the cave…when it happened. I guess…I think…is that why you were so angry… were you scared too?"

Long moments went by, flickers of light and emotion dancing across Faith's eyes, battling for dominance. When she finally inclined her head with slow reluctance, her lips thinning, Xander's heart squeezed.

"So was I," he said softly, and he held Faith's gaze with his own, knowing that this moment between them might be no more if he were to look away. "Terrified. And that… I guess it makes us stupid, afterward. When it's over. When we can be."

"It makes YOU stupid," Faith corrected him immediately and with some adamancy, but there was neither shock or vindictiveness to her tone anymore. Her coloring was approaching its usual hue in her cheeks and face, and she regarded Xander now with a reluctant, indecisive scrutiny, emotions still highly present in her eyes, but muted, dimming now to a less intense presence. It might still be able to be okay… if he didn't screw this up now, it might still be able to work out.

"Yeah," Xander acknowledged in response to her remark, inclining his head slightly. Faith didn't move, didn't' go on; they continued to watch each other, silence beginning to stretch out between them, bred of awkwardness, but also desire to keep from making a wrong move on both parts.

Xander watched her, unwilling to risk looking away, and yet to see the pain still lingering, if not so starkly now, in Faith's eyes, to know that he had caused it, made it so uncomfortable for him to continue watching her that he knew he would have to do something, say something, to try to take it away, or at least further lessen it. It came to his mind then that Willow was still in his apartment and had probably heard their shouting, heard the stillness that had come about now. There was no telling what she thought was going on with them, and Xander was just grateful that she was staying away.

A few more moments passed as he weighed out options, struggling to think of what to do next, what Faith wanted and needed now. The truth was that he didn't' know, he had never known, really- from the time he first entered her motel room, from the start of this all, every encounter Xander had had with her had been him acting on instinct, flying by the seat of his pants with what to do, how to be with her. So far successes had outweighed his failures in the grand scheme of things, and he decided then to take another risk, in an effort to get somewhere with her again, somewhere beyond this discomfort and distrust he had managed to get them to revert back to with a few unguarded words.

"Faith?" he said quietly, still holding her eyes with his, trying to make his tone and expression as neutral and non-threatening as possible. "Faith…why don't you sit down? It doesn't have to be right next to me if you don't' want…just…why don't you sit."

She watched him for a moment, her brow furrowing, as if she were attempting to ferret out any possible ambiguous double meaning to his words. When Xander simply waited, as patiently as he was able, she came to a decision. Moving forward slowly, a little jerkily, Faith sat on the edge of the bed. She was neither close nor far from him, and made no move to touch him, and Xander had not expected her to. This action of hers was more than he had expected, and she simply sat, stealing glances from the side of his eye, and wondered if she was going to speak, if he should. He could feel her still eyeing him, saw the continued furrowing of her brow, and again he wondered what she wanted from him, what it would take to make things okay.

Xander noticed Faith shift her weight, moving a little closer to him on the bed, and he wondered whether this was a deliberate or unconscious effort on her part. Whatever the case, it gave him encouragement to proceed with the impulse that had been lurking in his thoughts, and slowly, watching her eyes, he reached for her hand, shifting his body a little more closely towards her as well. When she did not protest his touch but instead merely looked over at him, her face still but not resistant, Xander entwined his fingers with hers, squeezing gently. She let him, though she did not at first squeeze back.

"Is this one of those dangerous situations I get myself into where I can't fight back, or is this your dangerous situation?"

Xander smiled a little and squeezed her hand again, shifting his body towards her just a little more.

"Maybe both…or maybe neither."

Faith didn't smile, at least not immediately, but her face did soften, some of the remaining tension fading. She let her fingers tighten around his slowly, and as Xander looked at her, he felt an affection, a protectiveness, even a hopefulness towards her swell inside his chest. He continued to smile at her gently, almost hopefully, relieved that she was no longer screaming at him, swearing, calling him names, or beating him for hurting her. She hadn't run, hadn't even stayed back from him… she was sitting here, with him, on his bed, holding his hand. Given how she had behaved earlier, with much less cause to do so in Xander's mind, this was in and of itself a near miracle.

He began to wonder about this, to question why this was… why WAS she still here, why HAD Faith not run, when he had given her more than enough incentive to do so, when she had never hesitated to do so in any instance where she felt hurt or betrayed before? He had given her reason to leave, to decide to never have anything to do with him again, to have her newfound trust in him break. He had hoped otherwise, but he had expected this, all of this.

So why was she still here… why was she holding his hand…why did she even want to?

Xander's mind backtracked, thinking of her anger with him earlier, her relief and near giddiness before that, when Faith first realized that he was awake. He thought of her hand swiping quickly across her eyes and her beaming smile, of her sleeping nestled against his side, of her attempt to kiss him only a couple of days before. His eyes slid down to her fingers, nestled securely now in his, and he immediately rebelled, mentally pulling away from the slow thought forming in his mind.

No. Just no. There was NO WAY she could feel the way he was thinking she might… there was not even the most remote possibility. He was Faith's friend… he was her buddy, her confidant, occasionally her whipping boy or unlikely rescuer. He was her last resort. Her last choice. He was XANDER. It was Buffy she wanted, Buffy she had feelings for, Buffy that she loved. Even having a flicker of a consideration otherwise was ridiculous.

But…then why was she holding his hand, and after he had said so much to hurt her? When was the last time he held Willow's hand, or Dawn's? Why was she being so…so…

God, he wanted to hug Faith then…no…if he was perfectly honest with himself, Xander wanted to kiss her. He wanted to take her face into his hand, to turn her head towards his, and-

A hesitant knock sounded at the door, and both Faith and Xander jumped, their heads swiveling to look at the source of the sound. For a moment Faith's fingers tightened on his, even as her body tensed, and Xander couldn't' deny that he savored the sensation, at least for a few moments.

"Guys? I just, I wanted to tell you I called everyone and Giles and Kennedy are on their way. Dawn too… so if you want to…"

Willow let the rest of that sentence hang, her words awkward enough without finishing whatever thought she had decided would be wiser to cut off. From her tone and the fact that she hadn't actually come into the room, it seemed clear to Xander that she must think the sudden quiet that had emerged between him and Faith was a result of activities she in no way wanted to witness.

As if this thought had entered her mind as well, Faith hurriedly yanked her hand out of Xander's grip, looking down at it with something between panic, anger, and horror that startled Xander to see. She gripped her knee with the hand that had been in his, moving her body deliberately apart from him, as if she were worried her hand might escape on its own accord if she didn't control it. Her body remained tense, and her face settled into a blasé impassiveness, her eyes blanking out, growing guarded, so quickly that Xander almost stared, bothered not only by her actions, but also the instinct and speed with which they had occurred.

"Does Dawn know?" Faith called back to Willow, her tone so controlled and distant that Xander was distracted from what she was actually saying. She continued to hold herself distinctly apart from him, her eyes averted too. "About what we did, I mean."

"Uh…I…I left that up to Giles…" Willow said uncomfortably, and Xander had to wince in sympathy upon hearing that. The poor guy would be lucky to arrive without hearing loss or severe kneecap injury… and he couldn't say he would blame Dawn for that.

Faith must have had similar thoughts, for her lips quirked, something between a smirk and a grimace. "Damn, glad I got off the hook for that one," she muttered, and Willow cleared her throat, her tone still a little awkward, but also holding an eager undercurrent.

"Can I come in?"

Xander glanced at Faith, but it was she who shrugged, replying in a tone that implied she could care less, even as her shoulders and back remained taut. She glanced at Xander, then herself quickly, as if to make sure enough distance was between them.

"Whatever, no one's stopping you," Faith replied.

Willow opened the door and stepped inside, her eyes moving over Xander and Faith on the bed instinctively. When she seemed to get no obvious vibes as to what had happened from neither their faces nor their positioning, she frowned slightly, but then quickly smiled at Xander. Again he noticed a fidgetiness about her, an odd shimmer at the surface of her eyes, and suddenly he remembered what she had mentioned before, what they had become distracted from her being able to expand upon. Buffy…she had said something about Buffy's soul…

"You okay?" she asked Xander. When he replied in the affirmative, his eyes narrowing with concern as he watched her face, Willow smiled, coming close to them as the excitement in her eyes spread to affect the rest of her appearance. All her features, her posture, and her presence shifted until she seemed nearly to glow…yet Xander could feel nothing but apprehension in the face of her joy.

"Good…look, Ken and Dawn don't know yet, and Faith, I haven't mentioned it to you yet either, but this, it's so exciting that I can't hold it back much longer. Xander, of course I was worried about you, and of course I'm so glad you're okay…but this…I really think I can do this. I really think that I don't have to just release Buffy's soul, just give her peace in death…I think I can restore it. I think I can bring it back…bring HER back again."

Xander heard Faith suck in her breath sharply and didn't dare to look at her. His heart was racing, thudding loudly in his chest, his stomach flipping, and as he met Willow's glowing eyes, he was suddenly very, very ware of Faith's physical presence on his bed.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

"I will wait for you, she said, endlessly

I will wait for you, so spoke misery"

"Endlessly she said," AFI

Author notes: Yes, nothing much happens in this chapter. Yes, nothing is resolved/satisfying with Faith or Xander yet. This is a very long section so I've broken it into three parts. I hope to have part two up soon.

"How could you keep this from me?" Dawn Summers asked, her eyes narrowed with angry resentment, her chin lowered slightly, jaw noticeably tensed as her flattened hands pressed hard against the side of her thighs. "How could you know all of this and keep me totally in the dark?"

She let her pale blue eyes shift with deliberateness, stopping to settle for several moments on each of the people present, giving them ample opportunity to see the ice that had long ago formed itself in her gaze. Ever since she had arrived, along with Giles and Kennedy, to Xander's apartment less than a minute ago, Dawn had began to make it quite clear to all how very displeased she was with their sneakiness in concealing from her the occurrences of the past few days.

Her methods of displaying this were different now than they might have been two or three years ago. Dawn wasn't pouting now as she stared down each of them in turn, nor was she whining, nagging, yelling, or exploding. She simply bristled with the intensity of her anger, smoldering rather than sulking, cold control in her voice and ire in her gaze that was all the more uncomfortable because it was not fully cast out upon them. It was a mature, tightly reined in anger that Dawn showed them…and to Xander at least, that made it all the more scary. And not only because it was coming from the girl he had once affectionately referred to as "Dawnatello."

He suspected he wasn't the only one that felt that way, for when Dawn turned her eyes to each of them, each person responded with obvious physical gestures of discomfort and guilt. Xander grimaced, his eyes moving to the side, Willow flinched, Giles shifted and removed his glasses to busily clean them, and even Kennedy had to look away. Only Faith looked back at her, her expression slightly softened, even somewhat contrite rather than just guilty or sympathetic.

Xander thought as he glanced at Faith watching Dawn that the brunette Slayer had looked unsettled even before Dawn had spoken, had looked bothered from the moment she saw her, and maybe she had. Looking at Dawn, Buffy's only remaining blood kin, must cause a warring of emotion in her even now…especially now. Even for Xander it was sometimes hard to look Dawn in the eye and not to see a piece of Buffy facing back at him.

"I told you guys," Kennedy muttered, crossing her arms. When they all ignored her, she continued, exhaling in weary vindication that nevertheless held some triumph too. "If you think this is bad… Giles and I definitely got the worst end of the stick here earlier."

She was silenced by a particularly scary glare from Dawn. Faith spoke up then, and as Xadner glanced at her, he thought that Faith looked more composed now that when Dawn hadn't said anything to anyone yet. He quickly turned his eyes away after only a few moments, shifting his weight.

"Dawn, I know you're pissed," Faith started, "you've got a right-"

"You're damn right I do," Dawn said coldly, turning her gaze to Faith only briefly before she looked again at the others collectively, addressing all of them as one. "None of you tell me anything, not one damn thing that's important, not one thing that's VITAL for me to know. Not that Xander found Faith and she's okay, that she didn't hitch to Tahiti or go get herself trapped in a ruptured volcano or something. Not that she's been having Slayer dreams about MY sister, about MY sister dying- not that my sister could be in HELL-"

Here Dawn's voice cracked, the fire in her eyes wavering slightly, but she took a deep breath and pushed forward.

"You didn't tell me that MY sister is probably in hell, her soul trapped, or that the demon who killed her and took her soul is not only known, but here, daily dancing in Faith's head, and apparently camping out practically in our back yard. And then…you didn't tell me that the only people left in the WORLD that I care about, that I consider my family, are going off to face it- and THEN you don't tell me that Xander got stabbed, that Xander almost DIED, until all of it, EVERY LAST BIT, is over. Is there anything else? Anything? Did anyone die and get brought back to life, adopt a rabid sea turtle, have a secret pregnancy, anything ELSE you're keeping from me?"

Xander couldn't help but notice that all eyes turned to Faith instinctively and with sincere wondering at Dawn's last thrown out question. Faith's eyes widened, and she made an indignant noise of protest.

"Hey, what the hell do you all look at ME for? There are three other people here capable of doing the secret pregnancy thing too!"

"Lesbian, lesbian, virgin," Kennedy pointed out, gesturing. "Process of elimination…and since you're a known freeby-"

"Hey, fuck you!" Faith snapped, rounding on Kennedy and seeming to threaten violence in her posture, if not yet her actions. Kennedy shrugged, unintimidated, and smirked back.

"Nah, wouldn't want to get one of those secret unwanted pregnancies."

"Stop it, all of you…/stop/ it," Dawn hissed, "shut up." Her voice rose just loudly enough and with enough menace that everyone present halted, stunned. Even the bloodshed close to being spilled between Kennedy and Faith was curtailed as they jerked to a stop, turning to face her quickly. She glared at each of them in turn, her eyes lingering longest on the Slayers, before repeating in a slightly softer but no less scary tone, "Shut up. Just. Shut. Up."

"Thank you," Giles murmured with sardonic but sincere appreciation, but he too was quickly silenced by one of Dawn's stares.

Given that the girl was two inches shorter, many pounds lighter, and five years younger than him, who was no powerhouse himself, Xander knew that outsiders might find the control Dawn was wielding over them now right now as ridiculous to see. But none of them had ever encountered an enraged Summers woman either. If they knew the dangers in their midst, they would doubtless all be cowed too.

"I asked you a question," Dawn continued in the same tone and with the same look on her face that reminded Xander rather uncomfortably of Hannibal Lecter. Scary, scary thought. "Is there anything else you haven't told me? Anything else that you've been keeping from me to PROTECT me?" She drew 'protect' out in such a way that it sounded like a swear.

All eyes turned in unison to Willow, who blinked, looking unsettled to suddenly be the elected target of Dawn's anger. She tried to smile at the younger girl, but Dawn was having none of it. She crossed her arms, staring at Willow pointedly as she waited for her to speak. Near Xander, Faith smirked slightly, muttering under her breath loudly enough for him to hear.

"Balls in her court now. Hope she makes it outta there in one piece."

Xander nodded slightly and gave her a quick smile, but didn't answer verbally. Despite Faith's facetious comment and the seemingly casual way she was standing near him, not quite looking at him, Xander could tell from the tension in her shoulders and jaw and the darkness of her pupils that her thoughts were not on either him nor Dawn, nor anyone else present. She seemed unable to remain still, and he could understand that…it was difficult for him to keep from pacing and fidgeting as well, and Dawn's arrival had made this no better.

"Um…there's actually, kind of something we all need to talk about, Dawnie," Willow began under the discomfort of the younger girl's stare. "that's why we're all here right now…that's why-"

"What?" Dawn interrupted, her voice tight and cold. When Willow's eyes flickered away from her to the vessel on Xander's counter, and the force field lightly glowing around it, protecting Buffy's soul, her expression flickered as she followed the redhead's gaze. She made no move towards it, but her voice softened, wavering slightly, as she spoke again, her tone considerably amended.

"What is that…is that her…is that Buffy's…"

She didn't finish her sentence, her eyes fixated on the shapeless pale form brightly illuminated in the glass vessel. Xander knew how she felt- he too kept turning his head to look periodically, feeling very much aware of its presence and purpose. The vessel's contents was miraculous, beautiful, in its physical appearance nearly as much as in the reality of what they were. He was afraid to go near it, let alone touch it, for fear of destroying it, and yet he could not help but let his eyes wander to regard it, drawn to it too much to be able to resist.

"Yes…it's her soul," Willow replied to Dawn's unasked question quietly and with some reverence, but her face nonetheless failed to reflect solemnity in the course of her excitement. "That's what we're here for, that we were going to talk about…Buffy's soul. We got it back…and Dawn, I know I can restore it. I know we can bring Buffy back, bring her to life again."

Hearing her speak those words for a third time, Xander's mind shifted back to twenty minutes ago, when Willow had spoken those words to him and Faith in his bedroom. There had been a dramatic reaction then, and he suspected he could expect no less from Dawn now. He himself had not reacted much; it was the second time Willow had told him, and the second time made the shock no lesser, made it no easier for him to wrap his mind or feelings around the idea.

He had sat without speaking, unable to put his thoughts together coherently enough to form words. Faith, however, had not had this difficulty. After an initial few stunned moments where she sat frozen, eyes wide, her limbs and facial features slackening so that Willow too looked alarmed and started towards her, she had suddenly taken in a deep breath, snapping her head up, and began to pound the other woman with questions, urgent intensity crackling about her. After Willow had answered what she could, though too vaguely for Faith's or Xander's satisfaction, the Slayer had sat back again, her expression slackening into dazed unbelief again even as her eyes remained sharp with thought.

Even now she seemed not entirely there in the present mentally, the few times Xander had actually looked at her. When she wasn't speaking, being spoken to, or being stared down by Dawn, Faith lapsed into a quiet fidgetiness that was occasionally stalled as she attempted to still herself.

They hadn't spoken much since Dawn had arrived, or even before, at least, not to each other. Despite the semi-resolution of their ugly exchange from before, an awkwardness remained between them heavily that could not be overcome, not now, not so easily. Even without the issue of Buffy's soul that they were facing, they could not have moved on quickly and totally from the damage on both sides that had been done. And though it was secondary in mind and importance to them both in the face of their current more immediate issue at hand, it was nevertheless an issue they would eventually have to face. For now, however, they avoided it entirely, merely speaking and looking at each other as little as possible, even as Faith had moved to stand closer to him.

He didn't' know what he wanted anymore… he didn't know what he felt. If they could bring Buffy back, really bring her back… of course he wanted that. Xander would never want or wish that Buffy remain dead, or separate from those who loved and missed her. Of course he wanted her back…all of them wanted her back.

But as much as he wanted it, wanted her, he could not keep from holding doubt in his mind, harboring reluctances to Willow's proposal. It had not been so long ago that they brought Buffy back from the dead for the second time. Xander vividly remembered that night, the terrible darkness that had swarmed about them in the cemetery…not only the literal color of the sky, but the oppressiveness that surrounded them, the atmosphere of near evil. Watching the slashes appear on Willow's body, watching her eyes blacken and roll back into her head as she vomited snake and the air crackled with energy, Xander had been terrified…and Buffy had awakened alone inside her grave. Alone, terrified, almost feral…and different. Despairing. Unwilling to remain with them, on the earth.

What if she returned in the same manner… what if this time, the shock of being raised from the dead yet again was too much for her system to overcome? What if she was a zombie, not really Buffy at all, what if she was only a shell of the Buffy they had known?

And then…as selfish and wrong as he knew it was…a tiny part of him could not help but think of Faith. As undefined as things were between them now, especially after their fight…as scared for her as he was, that she would continue to slip back into destruction, and yet also as resentful and even pissed as he was, more so as time passed, for what had passed between them, for the words she had spoken that he could not quite forget, could not yet disregard as totally untrue and not sincerely, fully believed by her…in spite of all of this, Xander could not yet think of letting her go. And he knew…he was very well aware that if Buffy were to return, he would have to do so.

He tried to shove such traitorous thoughts from his mind immediately, horrified that they even existed there. He would not think of Faith now, even with her standing less than three feet away, frowning slightly, her thoughts not yet shared aloud to the others in regard to Buffy's pending resurrection. She had said very little, really, even before Dawn's arrival, other than to question the technicalities of how Willow could do such a thing and whether she was certain that she could. Xander would have thought that pure ecstasy would be her response to such news…after all, she didn't know, didn't' remember the details of the night of or aftermath of Buffy's return. Then why did she seem to be holding back from expressing total enthusiasm at the idea?

Argh, he had told himself he wouldn't think of Faith… how did he always let his mind circle back to her?


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

"Look for me in a white forest

Hiding in a hollow tree"

"My last breath," Evanescence

Xander forced his eyes and attention back to Dawn, who was staring at Willow with her eyes wide, intense emotion flickering across their surfaces before she blinked, shaking her head slightly as if to clear it.

"Wait…you mean… back, back? BACK back? You mean…bring her back…alive?"

Dawn's voice dropped on the last word, cracking, and she lowered her eyes, regaining composure before she could look at Willow again. Willow's smile softened, but her intensity continued to show itself obviously in her features as she nodded.

"Yes…alive. I can bring her back alive, Dawn. I've found a way, I have the stuff I would need, I have the ability… I can bring her back again."

"Willow," Giles began, his voice heavy, but no one looked at him, not even Willow. All eyes were on Dawn as she swallowed, biting her lower lip, tears controlled from falling but visible in her gaze as she paused before speaking again, her voice steady, but still showing traces of her emotion in its tone.

"Are you…are you sure?"

"Yes," Willow repeated, continuing to smile at the younger girl gently, and Xander's stomach clinched. "Yes, Dawn, I'm sure."

"Willow," Giles repeated, taking a step toward her now, his voice louder, more insistent, and his brow furrowed, his expression troubled as he shook his head. "Whether or not you are able to do such a thing… and I do not doubt your ability… there would be consequences that we must consider…just as there was last time."

"Last time?" Faith asked quickly, looking between them with her gaze sharpening, but neither answered her. Willow turned to face Giles more fully, her expression guarded, defensive now, and she spoke with some stiffness in her voice even as she maintained civility.

"It won't be like last time. I have better control now, better awareness of what will happen and what exactly my powers can do. And besides, she's suffering. She's…her soul is probably in a hell dimension, Giles, for real this time. We can't just LEAVE her there."

"That is not at all what I am proposing," Giles said with an angry edge to his voice now, his brows slanting towards his nose, and he pushed at the bridge of his glasses with one finger before continuing to regard Willow intently. "And I do believe you know that, Willow. Of course we will not leave Buffy as is. But there are other options…Buffy's soul could be released in such a way that she is given peace. If we were to decide not to do that… if we were to resurrect her once more…there are many things that could go wrong, in so many ways-"

"Nothing will go wrong," Willow interrupted, raising her voice slightly, her eyes going hard, her voice taut with her determined near aggression as she stared Giles in the eye, as though in a challenge. "And if something did, I could fix it."

"Hey…come on, baby, calm down a little," Kennedy tried to soothe Willow, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently, but the redhead didn't' so much as glance at her, her muscles held tensely as she continued to stare at Giles. She was sidetracked finally by Dawn, who had been following the exchange with leery bewilderment, conflicting feelings of hope, lingering ire, and grieved memories flickering across her eyes and features as she watched.

"Willow…you really think you could bring her back…that we should?"

"Yes," Willow replied firmly, turning her head finally from Giles to look at Dawn. "Yes, and the sooner, the better. I think we should do it today. We don't want any more time to pass than is necessary."

"Hey, wait a minute," Xander and Faith said in unison. Startling, looking up at each other quickly, their words halted, and Faith jerked her eyes away, deliberately shifting her body a little further from him.

No one else seemed to notice this, however, for Giles had spoken as well a split second after them, his voice carrying over theirs and continuing for a longer interval. He fixed intensely narrowed eyes on the young Wiccan before him as he tersely explained his concern to her.

"You are being hasty. This is not something that should be decided purely upon the basis of emotion, or upon our own personal desires. We cannot simply leap into this, we cannot do as you are suggesting simply because it is what we all want to happen. It is not that simple, Willow, you above all others should realize and recall this. We need to consider this for a greater period of time, together, to think about this carefully before coming to a conclusive decision."

"What is there to think about?" Willow questioned, tension strongly coloring her face and voice too as she stared back at Giles, ignoring her girlfriend's hand still resting firmly on her shoulder. "I think it IS pretty simple. We can bring her back, so why shouldn't we do it? She's SUFFERING, Giles, and we can stop it, we can bring her back. I realize things could go wrong, but they won't. I have control. And last time, it all worked out in the end, if you'll recall. I have the ability. You have yet to give me one good reason that I shouldn't use it."

Xander found himself glancing at each person present quickly, observing their expressions, very much aware of how strongly the tension in the room was growing as Giles's and Willow's exchange ran on. Though Dawn and Faith seemed currently to be simply trying to follow along with what was going on, and Kennedy seemed to have decided that her wisest course of action was just to keep out of it, he could tell that they were growing increasingly agitated in Faith's and Dawn's cases and apprehensive in Kennedy's. This could not end satisfactorily… and honestly, Xander wasn't sure which of the two was right, or which person he wanted to win.

"This is serious, Willow, this is an irreversible decision that affects us all, whatever is decided, whether anything would go wrong or not," Giles maintained, not backing down in the face of Willow's stare. He was in fact returning it in a manner that Xander paid close attention to…for it looked like his Ripper side wasn't far from the surface. "This is why we met, to discuss this. All of us. To all talk about the options available, without rushing into hasty decisions."

"What is left to talk about?" Willow cried, her voice rising, and her hazel eyes sparked as she flung out one arm in frustrated emphasis, almost hitting Kennedy beside her. "She's dead, I can bring her back, we all want and need her back, the course of action this all points to is pretty clear to me!"

"Come on, babe," Kennedy murmured, not bothering to complete the sentence as she skillfully dodged Willow's arm, stepping to her other side to touch her shoulder again. Willow ignored her, her eyes fixated only on Giles; the older man simply stared at her for several moments, a heavy disappointment coupled with quiet anger in his eyes, before he spoke.

"Have you learned nothing from the past? Are you still controlled by your desires, that you would be able to stand here, years later, and repeat the same mistake without seeming to understand the gravity behind such an action, when decided upon so hastily? Have you truly learned nothing?"

"I have learned," Willow said icily, every word spoken with extreme precision as her eyes bore into the older man's, "that we need Buffy. And that any consequences that come about can be dealt with and overcome, as long as we get her back. That is what I have learned."

A silence hung between them for a long moment that no one dared to break as the young witch and aging Watcher regarded each other, the air between them thick with feeling. Dawn's eyes were wide, darting between, and she seemed unable to form words for the moment. Even Faith appeared to be nearly holding her breath as she watched. Xander was as surprised as any of them when his own voice broke the prolonged quiet, his words dangling painfully before them.

"Would Buffy even want to come back? If…if we could release her soul, give it peace…would she want to come back to earth with us?"

As everyone turned to face him in a stunned, slow fashion, pained consideration coming into their eyes, Xander shifted his gaze so that he would not have to look at any of them, particularly Dawn or Faith. Regardless, he could feel their gazes upon him, and he waited for someone to respond, his cheeks reddening, almost physically feeling the pain his statement had caused in them all.

"It…that doesn't matter," Willow said finally, and though she sounded shaken, she set her jaw determinedly, attempting to meet Xander's eyes. "She got over it. She'll be glad, eventually. She was last time."

"What the hell is with the LAST time, what do you mean she didn't want to come back LAST time?" Faith burst out with, her brow furrowing strongly as she put one hand on her hip in building frustration.

Again, no one responded immediately. Only Dawn even met her eyes, albeit briefly, before she addressed Willow and Faith jointly in a very controlled tone.

"She…she wanted to die again. The first time we brought her back."

She turned then to Xander, her focus mainly aimed at him, as she spoke then to them, her tone hardening, though still controlled. "You two don't want her brought back."

"Dawn, no, of course I do," Xander began, and Giles's voice overlapped with his, weary, but also colored with sincerity.

"I just think that what Xander has said bears intense consideration. We must also take Buffy's wishes into account here, not just our own, or those of the world and its future. As cold as this sounds, and I do not intend for it to…there are many Slayers who are active in the world now, Faith, of course, included. That is not an area of pressing urgency right now. What we must focus on is balancing consequences, examining our desires versus Buffy's, seeking to do what is ultimately right and best for her. Not for us… for Buffy. God knows I love her…I miss her too," he said, his voice dropping, and for a moment he looked down, gathering himself, before meeting Dawn's eyes again. "But we should think only about Buffy."

For a few moments silence hung amidst them all again, heavy with thought and emotion; every face prominently displayed the feelings that could not be put to words as Giles's announcement settled into their minds and hearts. Ever since Dawn had stated that Buffy had wanted to die, Faith had stilled, her pupils dilating, her arms moving so that she was hugging herself, her hands cupping her elbows. Her face had lowered in such a way that no one could see her eyes for very long after the immediate moments after the younger girl's words, and even after Giles had said his piece. She did not look up until almost a minute had gone by, her eyes burning with the intensity of her feelings.

"Why wouldn't she want to be alive? Why wouldn't she be glad to be back? She's dead. She- she wasn't SUICIDAL, that wasn't what she- she would want to be ALIVE."

No one responded at first; though Dawn looked at her quickly, she didn't hold her gaze for long. For the first time since the others had arrived, Xander made himself turn toward her, made himself look her in the eye as he replied to her, inwardly flinching just to have to look at Faith for a multitude of reasons.

"She was happy," he told Faith slowly, the words difficult to bring forth from the dryness of his throat. "When she died… the first time…she was happy…she was in heaven. When we brought her back… she wasn't."

"We didn't know," Willow said quickly, her voice terse, defensive. "We didn't know, we thought she was in a hell dimension. Like Angel was. And it's different this time, she really is-"

"But…she was back with you guys," Faith cut her off, the crease between her eyebrows deepening, and she continued to hold her arms close to her torso as she looked at each of them in turn, almost demanding, seeking out a response from them that they could not truthfully give. "Didn't she want to be… she would want to be. Even if she was happy…wouldn't she be happy to be back with you too?"

"No," Dawn replied softly, and the simple quiet of her voice combined with the stark, raw emotion in her eyes, made every heart in the room twist so that they could not respond. "She wasn't."

Faith's eyes began to dim slowly, her posture hunching, and Xander found himself looking at her again in spite of himself, then to Dawn, identifying all too well with what they must be feeling. He was at a loss as to what he should say, what he should do…what THEY should do. Every way he looked at it, it was just wrong, all of this was so hard that he could not pin down what he thought or felt, or even attempt to do so.

"But she, she got better, she got over it…it was hard for her at first, but she got OVER it, she wanted to be here… she wanted to live," Willow protested, her eyes wide, her features growing almost anxious, desperate with her attempts to show them that her way of thinking was the way that they should follow. "And she will again. If it's even a problem anyway. Listen, we don't have time, we can't keep wasting time talking in circles and what-if-ing, she's suffering, Buffy is SUFFERING, she needs us right NOW, and she needs us to help her right now, so let me HELP her!"

Giles opened his mouth as Kennedy began to gently knead Willow's shoulder, frowning in concerned disturbance. But it was Dawn whose voice was heard, firm, determined, and certain now as she raised her eyes, standing up straighter and holding her shoulders with more confidence as she spoke, addressing them all instead of just Willow.

"I want my sister back. I think I have more say in this than any one of you, especially since I wasn't given any say in anything else. I want her back, and I think you should all back off and let Willow do whatever she needs to do to make that happen."

Willow gave her a grateful smile that she didn't return. As Giles and Faith both spoke up at once, Giles protesting, Faith flinging more questions in Willow's direction, their voices battling to be most heard, Xander let his mind withdraw, let the thoughts and anxieties run freely through his mind without trying to make sense of them. There was nothing he could do… he didn't' even KNOW what he wanted that decision to be.

And then a thought occurred to him, so sudden, so startling that Xander caught his breath, its meaning striking him at the core. Without further thought he found himself blurting it out loud, the horrified realization of it heavily present in his tone.

"Willow…the urn of Osiris is missing…it broke the last time! How can we bring her back without it?!"

No one else in the room knew what he was talking about, the reason for his horror. None of them had been there… none of them had witnessed those terrible events in the graveyard three years before. None of them knew the steps necessary to do for Buffy what Willow had done. The only two others who would have known were dead now…and Xander thought now with a sick feeling spreading through his chest that maybe Willow had realized this, counted on this, to be able to have her way. She had to realize… she had to know…

As Giles, Dawn, Faith, and Kennedy frowned, looking between them without comprehension, Willow's cheeks flushed slightly, her jaw tensing. As Xander looked into her face, he knew that she had known. She had KNOWN, and she had said nothing, had hoped that the magnitude of this would escape his notice.

"I can work around that," she said quickly. "I don't need the urn for the procedure to be-"

"Willow, it's what restored Buffy's body last time!" Xander exclaimed, his voice rising. He was no longer able to keep his distress and anger from taking over his expression. He took a step toward her, restraining himself just barely from grabbing her by the shoulders and invading her space. "You know that! Without the urn of Osiris, she can't be normal, she can't be- she won't even look like Buffy! She won't BE Buffy, it's been almost a month, her body- she'll just be- she'll be-"

He stopped, almost choking, unable to say the words that were forming such vivid images in his mind. He couldn't even think them, couldn't give them further weight by acknowledging their reality. The sickness in his gut heightened, and Xander had to swallow, his hands forming fists. How could she DO this, how could she…

"Are you saying… does that mean that Buffy would be…like a zombie?" Dawn asked, her voice strained, her eyes moving slowly between him and Willow as she swallowed, her eyes glinting expressively even as her face remained controlled, almost impassive. "You said she wouldn't be Buffy. That her body- you said her body wouldn't be normal-"

"What I think he's trying to say here- what I think WILLOW is trying to say here- is that she'd be a corpse," Faith broke her off from finishing, her voice harsher and louder than usual.

She didn't keep her eyes focused on Dawn for very long; they skipped from Giles to Xander to where Willow stood, Kennedy's hand stilling on her shoulder, and came to rest there, her gaze hardening even as her mouth thinned, a muscle in her jaw twitching unconsciously. She crossed her arms, facing Willow with her muscles tightly drawn, her hands moving into fists that clinched and unclenched compulsively as Faith spewed her words at her, emotion rising. Xander realized with some alarm that if something didn't happen fast, she was going to explode. The question was not if she would, but rather in what manner.

"He's saying she'd be a CORPSE, a DEAD BODY, a SKELETON, a fuckin' rotting, decayed, skinless- oh fuck, FUCK-" Faith stopped talking, her ears reddening even as her face paled. She swallowed, taking several visible deep breaths, and Xander thought she looked sick to her stomach by her own words, by the images they must have been bringing to mind. He knew that he was.

He tore his eyes away from her, unable to stand looking at her as her voice continued to echo in his ears. He swallowed convulsively as his eyes rested on Dawn. The younger girl's eyes were large, glistening, and she shook her head, pressing a fist against her mouth. Her shoulders rounded, and Xander started toward her, concerned. She shook her head at him fiercely before he could reach her, stopping him in his tracks, and turned on Willow, her voice fierce, yet shaking with emotion.

"You would do that?! You would bring her back… like THAT…you would…"

"I could get around that!" Willow almost yelled, shaking her head quickly, and she looked around at each of them in near anger, Faith in particular. "I could restore it once she was here. It would just take a little longer."

Giles had said nothing after Xander's realization out loud of the full nature of what Willow had planned to do; he had seemed too stunned to form a response. Even Kennedy's face had flickered in shock, and she had removed her hand from Willow's shoulder entirely after Faith's small outburst. Now he spoke up, his voice heavy, not angry so much as weary and very disappointed, disgusted.

"This is precisely what I had hoped you had matured and grown enough to learn no longer to do. You are foolishly allowing emotion to control your reason, to push you into action you know is dangerous and unprecedented. You-"

"I SAID I know what I'm doing!" Willow opened glared at Giles now, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes darkened, and Xander wondered briefly and with some alarm if she would use magic explode before Faith, if she would use magic against them, whether inadvertently or not. "I said I could restore her, I said I can do this, if you want her back, you have to TRUST me. You have to-"

"Trust you?!" Faith spat, and now Xander's anxiety increased exponentially, for she had in two seconds' time maneuvered herself to be standing directly in front of Willow, inches from her face, nearly spraying her with her spittle with each forceful word. "Why the hell should we TRUST you, you were fucking LYING to us! You weren't gonna tell us SHIT, you were just gonna have her come back as a fucking SKELETON, BUFFY, you were gonna make her a talking, walking SKELETON, and you want to know why we didn't fuckin' TRUST you?!"

"Stop it! I can't do this, you can't- stop!" Dawn called out, her voice rising in pitch, eyes bulging as she pressed her fist against her mouth again, her color still unnaturally pale.

Both women ignored her. Willow was beginning to yell back, no longer attempting to control her voice, the air growing dangerously thick and ominous around them in a way that seemed dense with barely reigned in magic.

"You're one to talk, FAITH- what have YOU been doing to help? You disappear for weeks while the rest of us are looking, HELPING, TRYING! You go off on some pity party, then you come back and you think you know everything, if you knew so much, why didn't you handle this all on your own, why did you need us all to help? What do YOU suggest we do? Just because YOU don't want Buffy back, just because that would make you number two Slayer again, or mess with your insecurities-"

"Stop it!" screamed Xander, Dawn, Giles, and Kennedy in almost one voice, but it was too late. Faith had already dove at Willow, rage overtaking the pain that had briefly come into her eyes, and as she tackled her to the floor, knocking into Dawn so that Dawn stumbled too, nearly losing her balance, the chaos broke out.

Faith managed to pin Willow to the floor, but with skillful use of magic, Willow sent her flying off of her, knocking so hard against Xander that he fell too, Faith landing in a sprawl on top of him and nearly knocking the breath out of him.

Instinctively Xander wrapped his arms around her, trapping her arms to her sides in an attempt to keep Faith from leaping straight up again to beat Willow to a pulp. Not a wise decision- she almost broke his arm with a particularly violent twist of her body as she tried to free herself from him, but even as he was forced to let go of her, she stopped when Xander called her name, as if realizing who it was she had just hurt. Across the room Kennedy had Willow in a similar hold, even as Willow's eyes continued to blaze with aggression, as if challenging Faith to try to touch her again. Dawn had run over to cover and protect Buffy's soul from being harmed the moment the brief skirmish had began, and she glowered at each woman in turn as she continued to stand in front of the vessel, blocking it with her body.

"You could have broken it, do you REALIZE that?!"

"Enough," Giles said in a tone that could have cracked ice, his grey eyes narrowed behind his glasses, sparking with disgust and anger. "We will not discuss this any further, nor will ANY decisions be made, until time has lapsed for all of you to control your emotions enough to have reason. All of us need to go home, now, and let a minimum of two hours pass before we meet again. We all need time to think and regain control. Dawn, Willow, Kennedy, we will meet again shortly."

He turned and headed for the door without waiting; after several tense moments, wherein many hard looks were exchanged, the aforementioned women followed, with Willow first carefully collecting Buffy's soul. As he watched them exit, Xander felt the tension remaining palpably; it was just him and Faith left now, and this lent no less drama to the moment.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

"You've seen everything, seen every part

You've seen all my light and you love my dark

You've seen everything of which I am ashamed…

And you're still here"

"Everything," Alanis Morrisette

Once the others had left, remarkable silence ascended upon Xander's apartment; after the many outbursts that had come about over the past hour, it seemed more noticeable and striking even than it usually would, a stark and somewhat unsettling contrast to the conflict they were used to hearing. Not that Xander and Faith were without conflict between each other now…that was hardly the case.

Xander knew that Faith was seething, still furious at Willow, upset at the revelation in regards to the witch's plans and the manner of Buffy's return; she was unable to stand still, pacing the small room and glaring fiercely at the space before her without speaking. Xander could identify; he too felt adrenalized, as if he wanted to do something physically vigorous to release some of the tense emotion building inside him. Run, scream, hit something… he had a tremendous urge to punch a wall, but he held himself back, instead deliberately cracking his knuckles, as Faith moved restlessly around him. Neither spoke.

When Faith disappeared first into his bedroom, then his bathroom, muttering something over her shoulder that Xander didn't' catch, he let her go, barely glancing up at her. If he was honest with himself, at the moment he didn't' want to deal with Faith, didn't' want to tiptoe around trying to figure out where they stood, or what she wanted, what she expected out of him. He didn't have the energy or desire to; all he could focus on was what had just happened, what it meant. If she wanted to hammer things out between them or even to talk about what had happened with the others, it was up to her now. He certainly wasn't going to chase her down. It was about time she initiated something on that front without him prompting or taking over anyway… so let her retreat if she wanted. Let her go.

His mind was overrun with thought, his anger and anxiety over what had just occurred. That Willow would plan this, knowing what would happen, knowing she was being deliberately deceptive… what had she been THINKING? She wanted to bring Buffy back…as less than fully Buffy… force them to see her remains, force Buffy to exist that way, with so many things that could go wrong, until she could alter her appearance- IF she could alter her appearance?! What was WRONG with her- what could make her do such a thing?!

Grief…of course Willow grieved, they all grieved for Buffy. They all wanted her back…but at what cost? How much was too much?

Willow had been crushed when Buffy had died…she had cried , been very sad and upset. But now that Xander thought about it, she had also been trying very hard to be strong, to take care of Dawn and be there for her… and she had never really broken, never really displayed the rage or desperation she had shown when Tara died. He hadn't really thought about it at the time. He had been struggling with his own emotions, fighting simply to get through each hour of each day. He might have been vaguely relieved, even, unconsciously figuring that Willow had simply learned to have a better handle on her grief.

But what if she didn't… what if she had simply repressed her more volatile feelings, bottled them up inside until she could have a chance, an opportunity to finally give vent to them in a manner that had the slimmest possibility of restoring to her what had caused the source of her intense feelings? She could not be thinking clearly, she could not in any way be capable of making this decision with a logical mind… not if she was really…

Had Willow, in her own way, become like Faith in a spiral of destructive action- against fate and Buffy's remains rather than against herself? How could Xander have missed this…how could not one, but two women have escaped his notice?

He didn't know. He just didn't know. About Willow, about Buffy, about Faith… he wasn't sure what he wanted, what should be done, or even what he expected.

Some ten minutes passed before Faith quietly re-entered the living room. By this point Xander had begun to pace the room himself. As she stood there, crossing her arms, discomfort stretched across her features and spreading to affect her posture, Xander made himself stop moving, though he did not address her or directly face her.

Faith cleared her throat, shifting her weight uneasily, but did not begin to pace again, nor did she come closer, try to meet his eyes. She continued to hold her arms tightly against herself, and even without really looking at her, Xander could feel the guilt and disturbance that enveloped her.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked abruptly, the tone probably gruffer than she had intended, and she fumbled, her voice more uncertain as she attempted to clarify. "I mean, when I was trying to get you off… after Willow…did I-"

"It's okay," Xander told her, glancing over at her quickly, but his tone was cooler than usual. Not entirely because he intended it to be, but nevertheless so. "Don't worry about it."

"No, it's not okay," Faith insisted, taking a step towards him. She stopped, her frown deepening, and she stood still, opening and closing one fist slowly, as if in an effort to keep from reaching out to him. "Shouldn't have flipped out like that. She just…whatever. I didn't mean it…you sure it's okay? It didn't get sprained or broken or something?"

"It's just a little sore," Xander replied in the same civil yet distant tone as before, glancing back at her for a moment longer. This was an understatement- he was more than certain that his arm muscle was strained, if not sprained, and even with Willow's healing spell, his back felt very painful after he had been knocked onto it with Faith's weight, slight as it was, on top of him. "Don't worry."

"And your back- didn't mean to knock you over, is it okay? I mean, you should have Willow or Giles or someone look at that. Is it-"

"Faith, it's okay," Xander cut her off more insistently this time, facing her fully, though not entirely reassuring in tone. "I know you weren't meaning it, don't worry over that."

Unconsciously he put slight emphasis on the word that, and Faith's frown deepened, her eyebrows slanting as she continued to regard him before letting her eyes slide away. Xander tried not to wonder what she was thinking, but despite anything he told himself, this was a difficult thing to accomplish.

Several moments passed in silence between them, long, awkward, broken only by the sounds of their breathing, by shifting of weight and quiet exhalations as each waited for the other to make a move. Finally Faith sighed, her face lowered, her words somewhat muffled as she spoke.

"You're not a duck."

Xander looked over at her at this, a puzzled frown coming to his face as he tried to digest this incomprehensible statement. Coming up with nothing, he was forced to ask.

"Uh…what?"

"You're not a duck," Faith repeated a little more loudly, as if the problem was Xander's hearing rather than his comprehension. When he continued to look at her blankly, obviously not benefitted by her repetition, she exhaled again, dragging her eyes up to meet his.

"What I said earlier… about you being a stupid duck or whatever… whatever it was I said, I don't even remember anymore. It all just kinda came out…I wasn't really thinking about it, so I kinda don't even remember it all.." Faith let out another breath, crossing her arms quickly, her eyes briefly shifting away. But the movement seemed more like a self-embrace rather than a defensive, guarded gesture, unconscious self-comfort rather than an attempt to remain closed off. Xander watched her, his own eyebrows knitted.

"Anyway, whatever I said…I'm sorry for that too," she said quietly, lifting her eyes back up to Xander's. He saw the confliction of her guilt mingling with the anxiety and uncertainty in their surfaces and knew however belatedly she was getting around to this, and however awkwardly she might stumble through it, Faith did mean what she said. "I was a little freaked. Didn't mean it…shouldn't have said it…wasn't true."

With this spoken, Faith seemed to obtain no relief from having said it; if anything she seemed even more ill at ease as she awaited Xander's reaction. She turned her body very slightly away, letting her weight rock back and forth, shifting from foot to foot with nervous, restless energy. The fingers of her left hand unconsciously stroked over the skin of her right arm, and she traced her finger over the tattoo on her bicep, scratching lightly without seeming to realize she was doing so.

Xander paused, watching. He hadn't expected an apology from her, at least, not for that. In all the past blow ups Faith had been involved in that he could recall, he had very rarely heard her apologize later in a way that didn't at the very least sound resentful or sarcastic, whether she meant for it to or not. However wrong she might have been, it just wasn't in her character usually to apologize- maybe she thought it made her look weak, maybe she just hated to admit she'd been wrong, Xander didn't know. What he did know was that for her to apologize to him now, she must be really bothered about what had happened between them, and where they stood now.

"You were scared," he replied finally, keeping his voice deliberately neutral, neither harsh nor overly gentle. "People say things they don't mean. Just like you said."

"Yeah, but that doesn't let me off the hook… doesn't give me the right," Faith muttered, and she uncrossed her arms, raking one hand through her hair and rolling her eyes to the side for a moment before looking back at Xander, making herself hold his gaze. "And it wasn't true."

Xander regarded her, a quiet acceptance settling over him. This was what he had wanted, wasn't it, in the back of his mind…he could take this and extend his own version of grace, without either of them losing any further pride, experiencing any further hurt, at least for the moment. Both were sure to come to them in the future, whatever path they set out upon, and sparing unnecessary additions of it now could only be a good thing.

Besides…looking at Faith standing before him, shoulders slightly rounded, licking her lips periodically and unconsciously…how could he resist that? How could he continue to hold very much resistance when she was-

Okay, stop, STOP, not going there now… not now…now stopping, stopping…

"No," he said quietly. "It isn't true. We both know that."

"It wasn't," Faith agreed, still nearly in a mutter, and she was looking down again now, crossing her arms in the same embracing manner as before, though she had somehow shifted her positioning so that she was closer to Xander, almost standing shoulder to shoulder with him. "But what you said to me… the stuff about me…it is."

There was no anger in her tone, only an acceptance of sorts, almost a concession of defeat. Unlike Faith, Xander remembered very well what he had said to Faith, words that were in their very sharp truthfulness chosen to slice through her angry defenses and hostility to hit her at the core. He had known then that they had hit their mark perfectly, and this was all the more clear to him now as he watched the shadowy contours of her face.

He wanted to touch Faith, to hug her, tell her he was sorry, and he was…sorry for her pain, sorry that he had not at the time understood, that it had had to come down to that kind of hurtfulness between them. But even so he was glad. If his words, his anger, had lead to this point in time for them, then it could only move forward, only get better, only clarify where they stood… couldn't it?

"I could have said it differently," Xander offered, but Faith shook her head.

"I think you said it right the way it was," she replied quietly, and Xander, despite his impulse to argue further, let the conversation die there.

They said nothing for a couple of minutes, the silence forming between them stretching out in a manner that was somehow both uncomfortable and faintly soothing. Standing side by side, they didn't look at each other, but rather merely stood close, letting their thoughts run freely.

Eventually Faith exhaled again, the sound shuddering through her noticeably, and she looked up at Xander, her lips thinning, eyes shimmering with momentary wetness that quickly was shoved back as she spoke.

"Xander…god, Xander, I want her back."

Xander's stomach twisted, and to his own guilt, he knew that not all of his hurt was for Buffy, or even for Faith's pain over Buffy… a part of him, try as he might to deny it, hurt because it wasn't him that Faith wanted so badly. He had been stupid, STUPID, to think for a second that Faith might have any thoughts of him beyond friendship, at least that weren't born of loneliness or extreme horniness. He knew damn well that for any normal person, let alone a Slayer, a person like Faith, he didn't hold a candle to Buffy.

"So do I," he told her softly, and he watched Faith, attempting to read her body language, to determine what she wanted. She was still standing rather close, her body turned towards his, and though she was frowning heavily, her forehead lined, she continued to hold his eyes, her own reflecting back at him her despair.

"But the way Willow would… would bring her… it's not right. It's just not right, Xander, no one should fuck with her like that, no one should-" she stopped, swallowing, lowering her eyes, and Xander quickly tried to detract from that train of thought.

"She wants her back too," he said quietly, trying to distract himself, to focus on Faith's face, Faith's eyes, to push back thoughts of Buffy…or even of Willow. If Willow was really slipping again, really becoming unreasonable or unstable in her thinking, what were they going to do? What could they do?

"She's just not thinking, Faith…she's just-"

"She's thinking," Faith disagreed, shaking her head vigorously. "She's not just thinking, she's planning. You heard her, Xander, you heard what she wants, you heard what she would do."

"Don't think about that right now," Xander said, and impulsively he touched her arm, letting his hand rest there lightly as he continued to meet her conflicted gaze with his. "I know, easy to say… but let's try. Just for now…okay?"

Faith took in a slow breath, turning her face away slightly and running a hand through her hair before she nodded, not responding verbally. She didn't pull away from his touch, and Xander found himself letting his hand linger there for a few more seconds before he quickly took it back.

"Um…do you want to sit, or…"

Wordlessly Faith made her way to his couch, slouching down onto it with a troubled yet almost male-like posture, her legs apart, body leaned heavily back against the couch. Xander came over more slowly and sat carefully, cautious not to put much pressure on his freshly painful back. He kept a distance between their bodies that was deliberate but not really all that far. He sat there, glancing over at Faith quickly and continuously, trying to think of something to say.

"I don't want to lose her again," Faith said suddenly, her voice low. She was staring straight ahead, not looking at Xander at all, even when he turned his head with a slight concerned frown, listening. "And I'm gonna have to. If we bring her back. God I want her back…but then I'd have to lose her again. In whatever way."

Xander nodded, continuing to regard her, studying her features, even as she remained in such a way that she wasn't facing him. He tried to think of something to say, anything, that would make her know that he understood, he felt for her, hell, he felt the same way, with a pained intensity that made it hard to even think.

"I know…I know what you mean. I do."

She turned her head slowly then, and her posture straightened, her legs closed together a little as she sat away from the back of the couch. She didn't turn her body, but Faith was facing him as fully as she was able to without doing so now, her face tensing as her gaze met his, her eyes searching, serious.

"You want me…don't you."

The words were said softly, almost gentle. There was no shock or signs of sudden realization in either her voice nor expression, but then, this wasn't too surprising. However Xander had tried to hide or distract from his growing desire- growing feelings- for her, Faith was not completely oblivious… and it wasn't like it was uncommon for people to be attracted to her. So she had probably known all along, or at least for some time now… what Xander couldn't really tell was how she felt about it. She didn't seem angry, or hostile, or upset… she was simply stating rather than questioning what would probably be obvious to anyone who could look at Faith's physical appearance and observe the fact that Xander was male. But if she had already known this, then why did she choose to ask about it now? Did it bother her after all… now that they were talking about Buffy, and their desires… did she want to warn him off from trying anything with her? Or was it totally the opposite…was she testing the waters, about to make a move on him if he proved receptive, simply as distraction of some kind for herself?

Xander didn't know what Faith wanted at all. But as he weighed out possible answers, attempting to come up with an answer that was both honest and not something that would give her wrong ideas, whatever those might be, he decided to just answer as simply as he could.

"Yes," he replied, and Faith nodded slightly, her eyes still focused nearly gravely on his, narrowed, as if she were deciphering what he was saying, as brief and straightforward as it had been.

"I knew that," she replied, her voice still pitched lower than usual, and when she didn't turn away, didn't say anything else, Xander took in a subtle breath, plunging forward with the question that had been so heavily plaguing him from the moment she first spoke… really, from the time she had tried to kiss him a few days ago.

"Faith? Faith…what do you want?"

A shadow came over her features, and as her eyes dimmed, darkening with her thought as she frowned faintly, eyebrows knitting, Faith managed to look straight at Xander's face without seeming to see him at all. Her voice was far away, yet poignant with sincerity as she replied.

"Everything…everything."

Several moments passed; Xander could think of no response. He felt that he should lower his eyes, to give her privacy, a place to retreat, if she felt the need. But Faith didn't seem aware that he was still watching her so closely, or at least, she showed no signs of being bothered by it. She seemed lost to her own train of thought, and when she finally focused her eyes, seeming to notice Xander again, she shifted her weight, exhaling, and turned her body away from him, putting greater physical distance as she spoke more tersely than she had been previously.

"I…look, I don't want to know how, why, when, what way…I don't want a definition or explanation. Hell, I don't even know why I'm asking, why I even want to know…I don't…"

"You don't have to ask anything you don't want to ask," Xander said when she stopped for a few moments, adjusting herself on the couch again, not meeting his eyes. He said it even as he hoped that she would, as his curiosity awakened at her statement.

But Faith shook her head, one hand moving to grip her knees, her shoulders slumping, yet still somehow managing to convey tension even in her more casual sitting style. "No, I do. I need to ask, hell if I know why… dammit…" she paused, exhaling, and then looked over at him, her words awkwardly expressed, but somehow vulnerable even in the abrupt way that she spoke.

"Do you love me?"

Xander froze. This had not at all been what he'd expected, though he hadn't known what it was he did expect. Her asking him if he loved her, however, was definitely not it. How could he respond to that? She wanted to know if he loved her… why? What was it that she needed to hear? DID he love her?

Of course he did. Xander knew he loved her in some way…as Faith, as his friend, his ally, someone who had fought battles at his side and come out triumphant…almost as family. But how else…was there more to it? Was he simply attracted to her, or was it deeper than that?

Faith hadn't asked him for a detailed analysis, however…in fact, she had adamantly stated that she didn't want one. She had asked for a simple answer, and that, Xander had for her.

"Yes," he said simply and sincerely, meeting her gaze. "Yes, I do, Faith."

She continued to regard him without words for several moments, her forehead still lined faintly, and Xander had an urge to reach out, to attempt to smooth its creases away with his hand. He tried not to think about where that impulse might have come from too much. He didn't look away from her, waiting with some apprehension for her response.

Faith was serious for a few more moments, and then she smiled suddenly, some of the dark seriousness in her eyes lightening into something that was calmer, almost playful… pleased? She shifted, and the intensity of their eye contact was broken.

"You're not the brightest bulb in the basement, are you, Xander?" she said in a flippant tone, but Xander thought he detected a serious meaning there as well, discernible in the what half hidden sentiments he saw reflected in her expression. He knew as well what she meant by her comment…it was aimed at herself, at his choosing to love her in whatever fashion that he did, more than it was an insult aimed at him. He smiled back, his tone as teasing as hers.

"Got me there. But I make up for it with my dazzling wit and charm."

Faith's smile widened, and for a brief moment or two he saw her dimples flicker into view. The sight of them made Xander's heart twist with gladness, and he smiled back, finding her beautiful in that moment, without quite thinking this in words at all.

"You ever heard that joke about the sadist and the masochist?" Faith asked suddenly, a small smile remaining on her lips, and Xander shook his head, not following her train of thought, but nevertheless willing. "Masochist to sadist: Hurt me. Sadist to masochist: No."

Xander stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, and then laughed; Faith smiled slightly, but even as her voice remained light, he thought a part of her was still serious.

"Not sure which of us is which sometimes."

"I could make SO many sex jokes about that, but I think I'll try my hand at maturity," Xander replied, giving a mock frown. "Hm…this maturity thing, it doesn't really fit… pervy jokes it is, then."

Faith smiled, but it was absent now, appearing to be done out of force rather than genuine reaction. As Xander let his smile flatten out, watching her, he saw that she too had slipped back into seriousness. As she rolled her eyes in his direction again, meeting his gaze, she spoke with a quiet directness that stopped him from noticing anything else anymore but her voice, her face.

"I can't lose you, Xander."

He held her gaze, unmoving, unsmiling, for a long moment. This was not a moment for easy reassurance, for smiles or jokes or anything but a depth of connecting that neither truly understood. He held her gaze, and he spoke in a tone that was as solemn and steeped in meaning as hers…but also conveying a promise, one he fully intended to keep.

"You won't."

Several more moments passed, and at that time, there was nothing more on their minds, their eyes, nothing but the other and the promise that had passed. When Faith slowly took a step forward, still gazing at him with concentrated intensity, he met her halfway, never dropping eye contact. They did not embrace, but when Xander reached out, slowly fingering a lock of her hair, she did not pull away.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

"Never was and never will be

You don't know how you've betrayed me

You know you've got everybody fooled"

"Everybody's Fool," Evanescence

Should he…shouldn't he?

Faith was looking into Xander's eyes, with that intense, concentrated look that made him feel like the center of her focus, maybe even the center of her world. She wasn't quite smiling, but she wasn't frowning either… and she definitely wasn't pushing him away. She was if anything a little closer to him now than when he had first stepped toward her- had she moved without him noticing somehow? She was letting his fingertips remain resting in her hair, letting him touch her…and was it his imagination, or was Faith tilting her head up towards him, like an open invitation?

Should he lean in towards her now… should he do it? Should Xander kiss her?

The moments stretched between them with neither pulling away, yet neither pushing forward, and Xander vacillated, torn between equal instincts of fear and reason, desire and impulse. For once, Faith seemed as uncertain as he was, and he knew that she would not make the first move.

But would he?

As it turned out, that decision, at least for those specific moments in time, was taken out of Xander's hands, for his cell phone rang, jarring him out of his conflicted reverie. Both he and Faith jerked in shock at the noise, for neither had remembered the existence of the outside world until that moment. As Xander pulled his hand away, and both broke eye contact, he fumbled for his phone in his pocket, bringing it up to his ear. As Faith turned away slightly, her face quickly blanking out, he tried not to feel panicked, to feel that his one moment had just been blown. But what was he talking about- why was he thinking about moments NOW?

"Hello?" he said into the phone, noticing that Faith, though still partly turned away, nevertheless appeared to be paying close attention. She took a few steps closer to him and crossed her arms, and Xander's eyes flickered over to her briefly before he focused his attention on the phone again.

"Xander?" said the voice on the line, and he recognized it to be Dawn's. Quickly his concern increased, for she sounded upset, her voice shaky, and her breathing was a little snuffly, as if she'd been crying.

"Yeah, Dawn, it's me," he told her, readjusting his grip on the phone and glancing at Faith again. "Are you okay?"

"No," she almost whispered, and he heard her sniff again before she continued, her voice cracking now. "Xander…Xander, I can't do this."

"Can't do what?" he asked, and for a split second, as illogical as it was, he thought that the younger Summers' woman was talking about him and Faith, about watching them start to inch towards… whatever it was they had been inching towards. But that was ridiculous. There was no way Dawn could have known when she was across town from them, in a completely different building. And even when she had seen them together, it wasn't like they'd showed her any signs or anything, they had still been kind of avoiding each other. Yes, there was no reason to be so paranoid- and even if she did think that, so what? They were adults- they were-

"I can't…I can't let her bring Buffy back," Dawn clarified, and though her voice still wavered and she sniffed again into the receiver, her voice was calmer too now, more in control and sure of herself when she said it again. "I can't let Willow do it, Xander… I can't let her bring Buffy back."

For a few seconds Xander paused, looking over at Faith again; he suspected that her Slayer hearing had picked up Dawn's words as well as his, from her expression. For a space of time he was not sure what he was going to say in response to Dawn, for he had no idea what would be best to say.

"Have you…well, did you talk to Willow about it yet…did you tell her how you feel?"

The phone line crackled, and Xander figured it was because Dawn was shaking her head.

"No…no, I'm in my room, I've been…kind of staying away from her. She doesn't know I called… but I can't do it, Xander, I mean it. I can't."

"Well… we still have an hour before we meet up again," Xander said slowly, not because he was trying to discourage her so much as to make sure that she was sure, to make a way to stall when speaking to her so he could have more time to think of what to say, what to do. "We still have some time to really think things over, Dawn, so-"

"No, I don't need more time. I already know, Xander, I can't," Dawn insisted, and her voice was much stronger now, more firm than ever as she continued to make herself heard. 'I've been thinking, I've been thinking a lot, and it's just not right, for any of us, we can't let it happen. Even if it wasn't for- for how her body would be, or, or, you know… I couldn't stand that, to see that, and I don't' think any of the rest of us could either. And Buffy, she, she shouldn't have to see herself like that… she shouldn't have to…"

Dawn took a deep breath, swallowing again, and Xander realized with some surprise that Faith had moved to stand right next to him, practically had her head pressed against the receiver. He angled the phone between them as Dawn made herself go on with her conviction.

"Just…even if she was okay…even if she could come back okay…if she could come back right. And she can't, she'd be like, like Mom would have been, she'd be- not right…even if she'd be okay, Buffy…Buffy hated it. She wasn't glad, she said, she said it hurt…and I, I want her to be happy, Xander. She deserves to be happy, even if we're not… she should be. And if we, if we just keep losing her, just keep having her die and bringing her back, over and over, it's not fair to her, it's just not… and it's not fair to us. I just can't keep losing her, Xander," she said finally, her voice dropping off again, soft, almost a plea. "And if we keep doing this…then we have to."

Both Xander and Faith were very still as they thought over Dawn's words, unable to meet each other's eyes. Faith had said something very similar, before Dawn's call, and it was something that had preyed upon Xander's mind as well. How many times could you lose a person before you lost them for good? How many times could you restore a person before they were too fragmented to piece back together?

He found himself nodding faintly, as Dawn had before, knowing she couldn't see him, knowing that still she would understand. He continued to avoid Faith's eyes as he replied.

"I…I think you're right, Dawn…I agree. I think… I think we're going to have to learn to let her go."

Beside him Faith sucked in her breath, slowly, head lowering, hands cupping her elbows. On the receiver Dawn breathed in as well, attempting to control her voice.

"So…so we should, we should release her soul. Let her go back to, to heaven… get her out of hell. I don't' want… I just don't want her to have to suffer anymore."

"She won't," Xander told her, having to be careful of his own voice as he replied. "We'll do that, Dawn…we'll make sure of it. She'll…she'll be happy again. She'll never see hell again. She'll never know anything but peace."

His voice choked up a little bit towards the end, and he cleared his throat, turning his head away from the receiver, and therefore away from Faith, as he took a moment to collect himself. Beside him, Faith's eyes darkened slowly, her features tightening, her eyes growing round with sudden, shocked realization. Xander didn't see this, didn't' notice until she grabbed his shoulder, turning him to face her roughly as her face paled, her eyes bore into his with a dark yet fevered intensity.

"Xander…" she began, her voice urgent, her hands digging into his shoulders harder than she had probably intended with the force of her realized thoughts. "Xander, Buffy's soul is in that jar…we took it out of the Rafvik demon. So if WE have her soul…and if her body's buried…then exactly what part of her is in a hell dimension right now?"

Xander froze as what she was saying hit him; he felt sick with dread, sick with the knowledge that should have been obvious, the knowledge that he should have known all along…the knowledge that all of them should have had. Why had they missed this- how could that be right?

"But…Faith, Willow said-" he began, no longer speaking into the receiver to Dawn, barely aware that he was even still holding the phone. For her part, Dawn seemed to be no longer trying to speak, but rather listening, realizing that something was going on between them, outside her conversation with Xander.

"Didn't you say before that Willow said the same thing last time?" Faith pointed out, her voice rising slightly, and she didn't release Xander's shoulder; if anything, in her intensity, her grip unconsciously tightened until Xander winced. "Didn't she give you guys the same line about Buffy being in hell then? And she was WRONG, remember how she was wrong? We have Buffy's soul, how the HELL could she be in hell? She can't be! Didn't you hear what Willow wants… didn't you hear what she wants to do?! What if she's just saying all this shit about Buffy being in hell so we'll let her do it? I mean, damn, she didn't tell us how Buffy would have to be if we brought her back, why the hell wouldn't she lie about why we should bring her back?! Hell, what if she's the one that made us think it in the first place, the one who kept us all from realizing that, hello, souls can't be in hell if they're in a fuckin' jar right before our eyes! I mean, what the fuck did she do, use some kind of mojo to cloud our minds or something, we're not ALL that stupid! She has to have been screwing with us, Xander- she has to have been!"

For several seconds Xander could only stare at Faith as his thoughts clicked by slowly, processing the words that had emerged from her all too rapidly and empathetically. He knew that she was right…there was no other explanation beyond that she was right. He continued to stare at her for another few moments before slowly turning his head back to the phone, addressing Dawn at last.

"Dawn…where's Willow?"

"I…I don't know for sure," Dawn stammered; it sounded pretty clear to Xander that she had heard enough of what was going on to have more than a pretty good idea of what was happening. "I've been in my room… staying away from her…I haven't really heard her or Kennedy moving around in a while…"

"Where's Buffy's soul?" he interrupted, his stomach tightening, and he knew from Dawn's tone that she realized the implication of what he was asking as she replied.

"She…Willow had it…Xander, you don't really think she-"

"No," he said tightly, his eyes grimly shifting to Faith's, "no, I know. Dawn, make sure she's not home, just in case. Faith and I have to go."

He hung up, grabbing Faith by the wrist and heading for the front door without a word. As Faith followed quickly, her eyes wide, she asked, "Where are we going?"

"Buffy's grave," Xander said tersely as he continued out the door, jaw set, heart racing, sweat beginning to break out on his palms as he kept hold of Faith's arm. "That's where she'll be…she'll try to resurrect her. We have to hurry, Faith, we have to stop her, before she can go through with it….before it's too late."

He didn't take the time to register Faith's slight gasp, to look at her expression; he was only aware that her pace picked up considerably, and that when they reached his car, it was she who climbed into the driver's seat, an arrangement he had no objections to. He had seen Faith drive before, and he couldn't think of a better time than now to put her skills to good use.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

"Am I already that gone?

I only hope that I won't disappoint you

When I'm down here on my knees

Sweet, sweet surrender is all I have to give"

"Sweet Surrender," Sarah McLachlan

Normally a drive to the cemetery was a ten minute walk or a two minute drive from Xander's apartment; with Faith behind the wheel of Xander's car, their arrival at the cemetery gates seemed nearly instantaneous. It was a good thing that as the evening began, darkening the sky and chilling the air about them, few people had been walking or driving, at least in the area that Faith had been. Xander had a feeling that any car who dared to refuse her passing it up would have been mowed through, with the tires of Xander's car leaving treadmarks on its roof and windshield.

Neither spoke; they had no time or inclination to speak. Xander had barely even had time to hastily buckle his seatbelt before Faith had lit out of the parking lot of his apartment complex, tires squealing, black skidmarks burning into the pavement as she shot down the road, eyes boring straight ahead, knuckles whitened around the wheel. She wasn't wearing her seatbelt, but Xander didn't dare point this out. Even if he had meant to, they were at the cemetery grounds almost as soon as he could have gotten the words out.

Even before Faith had put the car in park, Xander could see enough in the distance to know that they might already be too late, that the two of them would really have to kick their asses into gear. Willow had already started… god, she had already began, on her own…

He could see the flickering of candles, forming a circle around a shadowy form in the foreground, a form that appeared to be sitting or kneeling on the ground…Willow. But how far into the ritual was she… was she just beginning, or was she already nearly through? Was there still a chance that they could stop her, that he and Faith could end this before disaster struck?

Faith didn't look at him, didn't attempt to exchange words or make plans of any kind. She simply leapt out of Xander's car, barely pausing to slam the door so hard he felt the vibrations jolt through his entire body, and ran through the cemetery entrance. Hastily Xander followed her, yelling out Willow's name. He didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to use aggression or violence if at all avoidable, and from the look in Faith's eyes, that was the only plan she was even considering working with at the moment.

"Willow!" he yelled, his voice echoing back at him as he hurried forward, dodging the headstones that Faith leapt over effortlessly with more difficulty than the quick-moving Slayer. "Willow, stop- Willow, wait!"

As he drew closer he realized to his renewed hope and quickly but briefly settling relief that Willow must have only just begun to set up for the ritual resurrection. Though she had candles lit in a circle around her, though she sat cross-legged before Buffy's grave, and there was a small vial of a red liquid that looked like blood before her as well, she had not yet painted her face with the blood, nor were her limbs marked by cuts or riddled with insects crawling beneath her skin. Xander didn't see a snake anywhere, yet anyway, and as of that moment, no bright lights surrounded her…and there it was, the vessel, the jar holding Buffy's soul, standing side by side with the vial containing blood. Xander could see it glowing dimly, pure, untouched, untainted, and still encapsulated… still safe.

"Willow!" he called out again, but the witch girl was watching not him, not his slower, stumbling approach, but Faith. As her eyes narrowed, their pupils darkening, Xander's stomach twisted… he knew all too well, could see what would happen split seconds before it took place, and he could not get there in time, was helpless to stop it.

"Faith- Faith!" he began, his voice rising sharply, almost desperate. This was meant as a warning to her to stop, to duck away, a plea for her to avoid Willow's wrath, to move along. But the words were late in coming, and even as they emerged, it was already happening, already beyond his control.

A sudden red light appeared, surrounding the candles, the vial of blood, the vessel holding Buffy's soul- perhaps it was a force field of some kind, a shield to protect them from being taken, damaged, or knocked over. Willow herself, however, remained outside of the red light, although its colors flushed across her face, illuminating her features. As Faith sprung forward, her arms positioned in such a way that it was clear she meant to tackle Willow, Willow calmly faced her, eyes narrowing, their black surfaces glittering suddenly and with a vindictive concentration. She held out one hand, the palm positioned in such a way that she seemed to be directing the other girl's body to halt in mid air.

This was exactly what occurred; no sooner had Faith's feet left the ground had she frozen in mid air, suspended before Willow, her feet dangling inches above the vessel containing Buffy's now-protected soul. Willow held her there for several moments, eyeing her, features taut, her expression impassive, before abruptly flexing her fingers. Lightning crackled from their tips, or at least what looked like lightning to Xander. It was some form of bright yellow magical energy, and it quickly surrounded itself around Faith's body, causing her to convulse with silent pain before she flew the rest of the way forward, hitting her forehead on a gravestone… on Buffy's gravestone. The visible energy surrounding her disappeared as Faith's body crumpled beside Willow, outside of the protected circle of the candles, but nevertheless before Buffy's grave, very nearby.

As Xander's heart leapt to his throat, his eyes bulging with horror, he felt the sharp beginnings of fear settle over him as well…for what if this was going to be like the last time? What if he could not reason with Willow… what if nothing could be done to stop her?

He could see that Faith was lying still, a deep, steadily bleeding gash marking her forehead, and Xander came up behind her, his heart thudding unevenly in his chest. He was terrified that the impact of the blow to her head had killed her. The relief and joy that swept over him when he quickly lay his fingers on her neck, determining a steady pulse, left him weak in the knees. She was only unconscious, only concussed at most. But nevertheless, Faith was hurt, already she was hurt, and he had no back up, no means to defend himself should Willow decide to turn on him next. It was entirely up to him now… just as it had been two years ago, when just he and his mouth had saved the world.

Question was, could he do it again…did he have it in him to make an encore performance in this somewhat lesser, but still terrifying moment?

"You hurt her, Willow," Xander said quietly, keeping his fingers lightly against Faith's neck for a few moments before slowly straightening, turning to face Willow. Though they were close, he was still outside the circle of her candles. None of them had flickered out, and Xander had to wonder if she had used some sort of magic to keep them from doing so. He did not yet dare to move toward her, but rather kept his eyes focused on her, hoping that she would be distracted, that she would see the mistake that she was making. They had been here, in this moment, before, and he focused on that, focused on his previous success, convincing himself that repeating it now was the only option. Surely it was right… he told himself that he had used skills, that he had not just gotten lucky before, and that he could do it again, if he only thought carefully enough.

"You hurt her," Xander repeated when Willow did not respond, holding her narrowed eyes with his, hoping he looked firm, that his fear didn't' shimmer across their surfaces as obviously as it had felt to him like it must. "Willow, you didn't need to do that."

"She'll live," Willow said flatly, her eyes hard, and she turned them sideways, focusing them briefly but meaningfully on the gravestone behind her…Buffy's gravestone. "And so will she. Now I suggest, Xander, that you get out of the way, and do not challenge me."

"You don't want to do this, Willow," Xander said quickly, his voice rising, but firm, as he continued to hold the witch's eyes, before she could refocus on the task she had been in the process of beginning…the task of resurrecting Buffy, if not her body, from the grave, regardless of costs or circumstances…a task Xander simply could not allow to happen. "I know you don't want to do this…not really."

"Yes," Willow said deliberately, and the icy tone of her voice made Xander swallow, made him look down quickly at Faith's unmoving form in an instinctive protective gesture, as if to defend her, should Willow grow violent again. "Yes, Xander, I do."

As Xander watched helplessly, unable to think of what to do, what he could say, Willow's eyes darkened further until first her pupils, then her entire eyes, were black…a sign of the growing magic inside her, on the verge of rising to the surface. Slowly and with great emphasis, she dipped her finger into the small vat of blood colored liquid, painting streaks across her cheeks and forehead as she maintained her black gaze on Xander's face. For Xander this was all too familiar…and all the more terrifying, because he knew what was to come, knew what would happen if he didn't stop it…but what might happen if he did stop it? What might happen if he stopped it halfway through, or if he invoked Willow's wrath, the focus of her power?

Why hadn't he paid more attention, why hadn't he seen that it had come to this, that Willow in her grief had been edging further and further away…how had he managed to fail her as a friend, as her family, as he had failed Faith, when he had been with Willow every day, spent hours with her, coping?

Coping…they had all been just coping, just getting by, and this was what it came down to in the end…

"You will stay back," Willow stated, and the very lack of anger or menace in her voice scared Xander more than if she had screamed. "Or you will take part. Either way, you will not interfere, and you will not test me."

"Willow, you know I won't take part in this," Xander said quietly, trying to see in Willow's gaze a flicker of doubt, of fear, some form of hesitation that he could work with, that he could seize upon. But he saw only the flat blackness of her gaze, and he could not imagine how it was that he would manage to overtake it.

"Then you will stay back," Willow stated, as if this closed the matter, and she turned her head forward again, eyes narrowing, focusing on the two jars before her. Before she could do anything more, Xander's reply, still quiet, but spoken with as much conviction as he could managed, caused her to stop, slowly turning her head back toward him again.

"No…Willow, I won't."

"You will not be able to stop me," she said, and her words were lower now, almost a hiss. Xander nodded slightly, accepting this even before he spoke, before he made any move towards her at all. At his feet he heard Faith stir, realized that soon she too might be joining into the fray, and he shifted so he was blocking her face from Willow's view with his legs, pressing slightly against her.

"Maybe not…but I'll try."

"You'll fail."

A sharp burst of magical energy hit Xander then, bright gold in color, and his body spasmed, momentarily paralyzed, before he collapsed on top of Faith's crumpled form, barely avoiding hitting his head on Buffy's grave as she had. For a moment he was stunned, unable to think to move, and when he heard her groan slightly, her body shifting under his, he rolled off her quickly and struggled to his feet, his legs nearly buckling again as he held out a hand.

"Willow- Willow, I-"

But Willow was chanting now, her eyes grimly focused on the jars before her, her body tensed with concentration. Xander could feel the air around them changing, growing thicker, heavier, crackling with the energy of her magical efforts. He saw small bursts of light flash around them, growing brighter, stronger, and he knew this was not good, this could not go well…

"Willow!" he called again, not daring to grab her, but knowing she was not listening, knowing that she would not hear him out if he didn't take some form of drastic measure, fast. But what? "Willow! Willow, listen to me!"

Willow did not respond, except to continue chanting, her eyes bearing ahead of her hard, and a burst of energy shot out at Xander, not knocking him down this time, but instead inflicting a sharp pain that made him call out in shock at its feeling. She did nothing more, and Xander steeled himself, pushing past his anxiety, ignoring Faith still moving at his feet, and called out to Willow again, his words loud, shouted above her words, the crackle of the air around them in the darkened sky.

"Buffy will hate you for doing this to her!"

For a moment nothing happened; the chants continued, but then Xander heard her, somehow speaking past them or over them, communicating with him even as she did not disrupt their flow.

"She will be alive to hate me. I don't care."

"You're condemning her," Xander said quickly, thankful for her response, however oddly it had presented itself, and praying, praying that its coming was a hopeful sign. "If you do this, Willow, you're condemning her to hell."

Again Willow managed to speak intelligibly to him even as she continued to chant, her words carrying out clearly and simultaneously with the Latin phrases, flashes of light flickering around her and illuminating her form in eerie bursts of color.

"No. that is what you're doing. Stop!"

"I want to release her soul, Willow," Xander said firmly, standing his ground, even as his leg muscles quivered slightly and renewed pain, outside of his own body's making, continued to stab sharply through him, spreading down his torso and arms. He felt wind whip around his form, sand, dirt, and small rocks picked up by it and smacking against him, but he stood, steeling himself against it and praying that Faith would remain still, would not in her awakening suddenly jump into the fray and provide stronger focus for Willow's rage…and possible violence.

"I want to let her go to heaven. I want to set her free. Forever."

"Stop talking!"

With this shouted statement, overlapped with her continuous chants, Willow's eyes flashed, her eyebrows slanting downward towards her nose, and suddenly Xander found himself to be flying forward in the air, his feet dangling a couple of feet above the headstones before he finally was dropped hard onto the expanse of grass before one of the graves, hard enough that he gasped, the breath knocked out of him. He knew that there was very little time… or was there? Had his talking, his interference, his forcing Willow to respond, somehow delayed what she was trying to do? Xander didn't see the slash marks from before on her, didn't see bugs crawling under her skin or snakes coming out of her mouth…or has she simply surpassed the need to be tested further in her powers?

"Buffy deserves to be at peace, Willow," he called out, taking a step forward.

As her eyes lifted, their black surfaces now fully focused on him, she froze him in place, or so Xander assumed, because he found himself suddenly unable to lift his arms, to take another step forward. All around the cemetery the forceful wind from before was picking up, intensifying in power, the energy of Willow's power snapping around them like lightning. Small cemetery debris was hitting Xander often and harshly now, flying into his eyes, and he couldn't move away. He watched as two headstones ripped straight out of their places and as Willow spoke, her voice hissing, low, he realized with both hope and fear that she had stopped chanting, that for the moment, all her energy was directed at him.

Xander saw as well that just behind her, Faith's eyes were fully open, though her head wound continued to bleed. Either she was still too dazed to move, or she was waiting for a good moment to take Willow by surprise. Xander suspected the latter and prayed that she would at least close her eyes for the moment and pretend to be unconscious. Being Faith, however, she didn't, but he could tell even from the distance that her muscles were taut with anticipation even while prone on the ground.

"Stop…talking!" Willow hissed, but Xander did not. He couldn't. Even if she hurt him…even if she did worse, he couldn't stop now. He had to yell now, to make himself heard over the roaring wind and thunder-like sounds of Willow's magic asserting itself all around them, but he did his best, yelling out over top of it, his eyes fixed on hers, trying not to look at Faith, not to see her at all, even as his guts twisted with worry at what she might do.

"She'll be in hell, Willow! She isn't now, and she won't be if you don't do this…but if you go through with this, Buffy will be living a hell on earth! She'll be trapped inside her bones, not a person, a THING! You can't guarantee that you can fix that, you can't guarantee that you'll make it right! She'll be trapped with pain, ours and hers both, and she'll never be free from it! And what if she wants to die? What if she does die, again, what if she makes herself die because she hates it all so much? Then she could REALLY be in hell, REAL hell- and what if we can't touch her, what if we hate ourselves for bring her back like that? I just want her to be free, Willow…please, just let her be free!"

Was it his imagination or did the winds seem a little less harsh now… was it just his desire, or were Willow's features slackening, softening, her eyes flickering with uncertainty?

He saw Faith slowly sitting up, then rising to her feet, still poised to attack if necessary; surely Willow's power would allow her to sense this, and yet she did nothing. She spoke, her words intense, but carrying a definite doubt that Xander knew he had not imagined.

"I am freeing her."

"No," he said quietly, holding Willow's eyes." No…to free her, you have to let her go."

A long moment passed, with dark brown eyes holding black ones, a depth of feeling passing between that was indescribable with words. When Willow's chin trembled, Xander almost sagged with relief. As her eye color faded to green, the wind and light slowing, then dying down entirely, Willow bowed her head, covering her face with her hands as her tears begin. As Xander started towards her quickly, his eyes briefly locked on Faith's…and it was she who quietly stepped forward, retrieving the vessel holding Buffy's soul from the ground, and held it with careful subdued nature in both hands.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

"What if I fall? What if I don't?

What if I never make it home?

What if I bleed? What if I break

And I find that I can't take

The city below the citadel, holding my own hand"

"Citadel," Anna Nalick

"Does that still hurt?"

Outside of Willow, Kennedy, and Dawn's home, Xander stood facing Faith at a slight distance under the shelter of a large oak tree, eyeing the gash still standing out starkly even in the night's dimness against the otherwise flawless skin of the Slayer's face. The bleeding had stopped some time ago, and somewhere in the past hour or so Faith must have wiped some of the mess it had made away, for there was only a little blood now drying to the wound itself. Still, it hadn't scabbed over yet, the skin still split in a way that wasn't usual for her with most scrapes and cuts with her Slayer healing, and Xander was still concerned that she might have fractured a bone or something, given the force with which Willow's magic had thrown her and how hard she had struck the tombstone as she fell.

"Slayer healing," Faith shrugged, crossing her arms as she briefly met his eyes. "Five by five…I'll live."

It had been an eventful past hour. After Xander had stopped Willow at the cemetery from resurrecting Buffy's body- as is- they had remained there for a good ten or fifteen minutes, Xander holding Willow, trying to hold both of them together, as Faith looked on, seeming utterly at a loss as to what she should do, whether she should even remain anywhere nearby.

It had seemed a very long time to Xander before Willow had stopped shaking enough, her tears slowing enough, for him to stand with her, but because Faith was still near, though turned away from them now as she bit her lip, deliberately fixating on anything but them or the grave they were kneeling upon, he knew that it could not have lasted for as long as it had felt like. Surely Faith could not have stayed silent and so near them without acting, if more than five or ten minutes' time had passed.

At any rate, they had eventually left the cemetery with very little said between them. Willow avoided Faith's eyes, and Faith moved with jittery restless gestures towards the car, avoiding looking at each of the other two. It was agreed without words that she would drive again, and Xander climbed into the backseat with Willow. As the others sat in heavy quiet, Xander had called Dawn, informing her with as little words as possible that they were on their way over, that Buffy and her body was still where it had been laid to rest. All this time Faith had still held Buffy's soul in her hands, seeming entirely unwilling to let go of it.

When they had arrived at the house, Giles had been over there as well, waiting; he had been there since Dawn first realized from her phone conversation with Willow what was going on and called him, going to search the house for the redhead and Kennedy. When she had found Kennedy unconscious, in a spell-induced sleep, in their bedroom, she had grown even more upset to the point that when Xander, Willow, and Faith had pulled into the driveway, she had run down the steps of their porch to meet them before they had so much as had time to put the car in park.

The confrontation that had followed had been one of great discomfort. Dawn had yelled, getting in Willow's face; Giles and Kennedy had had to pull her into the house and into another room, and when they reemerged, she was only slightly more calm. Willow had come close to breaking down again, and Kennedy had alternated between her own hurt, angry accusations and also snapping out at Dawn for what she thought was her too aggressive behavior. Giles and Xander had done what they could to mediate and cool everyone off, and it had been generally so chaotic and emotional that no one had noticed at first when Faith had quietly slipped out the front door.

When Xander looked over in the direction she had been standing in a few minutes later, he had been shocked and concerned to see that she- and Buffy's soul- was gone. He had followed after her out the door, barely muttering an explanation at all over his shoulder to the others as he stepped out onto Willow's porch, looking all around the night atmosphere before him for her. He hoped that she hadn't taken off permanently, that she hadn't decided to do something stupid or risky on impulse, while still riding high on emotion…and at night, no less, where there were pound to be plenty of vampires and demons roaming around…and while carrying Buffy's soul. Just what it might be she would try, he hadn't known, but then, he'd been slow on the uptake lately with predicting the intended actions of the people in his life.

Xander had seen immediately that his car was still in the driveway, a good sign, and even better, he saw after a quick scan of the area beyond Willow's porch that Faith had not wandered off very far. She was still on Willow and Kennedy's property, standing very still beneath their large oak tree as she cradled Buffy's soul in her hands. She had not looked over at Xander as he approached her, and had in fact not acknowledged him at all until he spoke to her. Now as he continued to regard her, still examining her forehead wound with some concern, he let his eyes drift down slightly to hold her gaze. She looked back with her eyes hooded, her shoulders slightly slouched, and he noticed the way she held the vessel containing Buffy's soul. Her touch was very light but protective, cupping the container in a manner that almost seemed an embrace, and Xander's heart twisted as his eyes drifted from her hands to the misty vapor floating within it. He knew that the container's contents had once belonged to Buffy….had once been a part of Buffy, the very essence of Buffy, Now they were all that they had left of her at all…and they could not keep it for long.

Faith's eyes seemed shinier than usual as she stared at the vessel in her hands for a moment, their surfaces glittering with reigned in emotion before she brought her gaze back to Xander's when he spoke to her.

"I know you'll live, Faith, but you might need stitches or something. You should let Giles look it over when things have calmed down a little… they're settling now, so if you want to go back inside a little while…"

"He doesn't need to," Faith interrupted, shaking her head. "Like I said, it's five by five."

Xander shook his head slightly and stepped forward, eyeing her for a few more moments; both of them held very still, not speaking, though Faith lowered her eyes to the vessel in her hands again. Exhaling, she looked back up at him and held his gaze with serious regard.

"You said things are cooling down in there?"

"Yeah," Xander nodded, and he sighed without quite meaning to, shifting his weight. He was still standing close. "Yeah, everything's winding down somewhat… all the yelling and excited gestures have stopped, anyway, if not the other gamut of emotional expressions."

"So people are still crying and shit," Faith reworded for him more bluntly, and Xander nodded, giving her a small and weary smile.

"One way of putting it, yeah…Faith?" he said softly, his eyes searching hers, looking for answers more meaningful than her spoken words in their depths. "Are you okay?"

He was speaking of more than her injury to her head now, and he knew that Faith knew this. She sighed, shrugging with one twitchy movement of her shoulders, and her gaze dropped down to stare at the vessel in her hands, her voice lowering, as she replied.

"Yeah…just needed to get out of there."

"Because I was worried," Xander continued quietly, still looking in the direction of her eyes, even though she wouldn't lift them back to meet his at the moment. "When you left. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I just needed out," Faith repeated, still quietly, and Xander noticed that one of her fingers was gently moving back and forth over the surface of the vessel as she looked into it, caressing it with an unconscious tenderness that softened her expression, even as her muscles remained tense. After a few moments, she looked up at Xander slowly, her brow furrowed, her words seeming to be asking for a specific answer rather than wondering what the true one was.

"Is Willow alright?"

"No," he replied honestly, and something in his chest compressed at this response, for even with what happened in the cemetery, what some might consider his victory, Xander felt anything but victorious in knowing her pained desperation…and more prevalently, he felt the aftermath of his failure with her, the far-reaching effects of what he felt he had not done, had not seen. "No, she's not, but we'll help her, Faith."

Like I helped you, he wanted to say, like I promise I will keep helping you, for as long as you let me… for as long as you let me close. But that sounded so pretentious and Xander was so afraid that speaking the words would invoke another failure, somehow jinx him from being able to carry them out, that he kept them to himself, simply continuing to gauge Faith's reaction, to try to determine her emotions.

She was silent for a minute or two, a span of time that seemed lengthy and pregnant with feeling to Xander as her gaze slipped away again. When she spoke, she did not raise her eyes.

"It could have been me," she said softly, gazing at the vapor-like form swishing around inside the protective cradle of her hands. "What Willow was doing…I could have done that. Before. If I could have done what she can do, I might have done it. If I had known there was a way, I might have done it…it could have been me."

"But you didn't," Xander said simply, not knowing what else he could say, and hoping that the simplicity of truth would be a comfort and power of its own. "You didn't."

"Yeah." Faith nodded faintly and then exhaled in a long, shuddering sigh, her shoulders rising before falling back into the slump of their original positioning. Quickly though she straightened them, lifting her chin, and asked Xander with a quiet directness, "What's going to happen now?"

"We'll release Buffy's soul," he replied, hearing his voice tighten slightly as he said her name. He swallowed, pushing past the choked feeling threatening to overtake him, to block his breathing. "Willow will do that. With us watching, of course… afterward, we think it's best if her powers were bound for a while…however long is needed."

"Yeah…and…after that…then what?"

Xander took a few moments; when he answered, it was with an honesty he could not alter with his response.

"I don't know, Faith."

Silence stretched between them again, and Xander found himself tracing the angles of Faith's face with his eyes, observing her as if she were a new person to him, or as though he was seeing her from a new and striking angle…or maybe it was only that their lives had changed so much now that they too had changed, and everything around them was taking on an all-new light in retrospect. He wanted to reach out in some way to her, whether with physical touch or some deeper, more mental or emotional connection, but Xander waited, not wanting to force the natural unfolding of it… whatever it was that should occur, that would occur.

"You stopped her," Faith said suddenly, her eyes catching his, and Xander nodded, not sure where she was going with that statement.

"Yeah…I guess so, sort of."

Faith shook her head, her lips twisting into a faint smirk that was also something of a self-disgusted sneer. "Yeah, and a load of help I was to you. I've gotta have the world's most fragile skull for a Slayer."

"I'm thinking someone else in your place might have been dead," Xander countered. "Willow is strong, Faith. It wasn't your fault."

She didn't respond for some time, and Xander noticed that her gaze had slipped back down to the vessel as she stroked it again with her finger, swallowing visibly.

"I could have done it before," she said quietly, and Xander knew she was still referring to Willow. "I couldn't do it now."

"I know," he said softly, watching her, and she exhaled, her eyes remaining on the life force in her hands before speaking again, her words emerging with obvious difficulty.

"I love her…but not like that, I couldn't…I couldn't let her be that."

"I know," Xander repeated, and he thought that Faith had shifted just a little closer to him even as her eyes did not move to meet his yet.

"She's going to be gone," Faith said, her tone a little shaky, "but…she'll be happy."

""Yes," Xander said gently, "she said she was, before." His stomach clinched, feeling emotion swell inside him for her, for himself…for Buffy. He knew this was right…but even so, god did it hurt to do this. He saw the emotions Faith had been so determinedly keeping back flicker strongly across her expression now, her eyes glinting, and he swallowed when she spoke again in a barely audible voice.

"She'll be free."

A tear broke from its careful restraint, and Faith wiped it quickly before it could begin its descent down her cheek. Still lowering her eyes, she took a deep breath as her hand tightened very slightly around the vessel. Xander ached to reach for her then, but he stopped himself, still unsure of what she wanted, what she needed. But then Faith looked up at him, her eyes open, soft, and took one small step, and this was enough.

Very slowly Xander touched her cheek, caressing his finger over the softness of her skin, before pulling Faith into his arms, cupping the blades of her shoulders with his hands. She did not return the embrace, for she was still holding Buffy's soul, but her body leaned into his a little, her head against his shoulder lightly for a few moments, as if she wasn't sure whether he could hold its full heaviness and weight. She still felt to him as if she were pulling back a little, not fully relaxing into him, even as he tried to hold her close. He could feel Faith's heart beating quickly, and his own sounded life African bongos bounding in rattling rhythm through his chest.

"You love me," she said softly, and Xander did not hesitate, did not question himself as to what was the best response; all he could give her was the one that was true.

"Yes."

She didn't speak. She didn't hug him back, didn't release Buffy's soul from her grasp to set it on the ground before them, but rather continued to allow it to be pressed rather awkwardly between their torsos. But Xander felt her body slowly relax against him, her head coming down upon his shoulder with full, heavy weight, allowing him to fully support her against him. He felt her heart beat slow, and she did not pull back…and this was more than enough of a response to satisfy him.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

"The time has changed nothing at all

You're still the only one that feels like home

I tried cutting the ropes, tried letting go

But you're still the only one that feels like home"

"Ten Days," Missy Higgins

In the early morning sunlight they gathered, six forms in a semi-circle around the place marking where Buffy Summers had been laid to rest. In the center sat Willow, cross-legged, her features tight with concentrated determination even as her lips quivered slightly, her eyes glistening with emotion. Kennedy stood close behind, almost hovering in a protective fashion, and Xander, Giles, Dawn, and Faith watched, their expressions showing varying degrees of control over their emotion at the meaning of this moment.

Willow's hands trembled, and her voice cracked noticeably as she spoke her final Latin phrase, the last of the words needed to be spoken for this new spell…the spell to set Buffy's soul free, to release it to heaven or wherever its final destination was intended. This was to be her final spell completed before her powers were to be bound indefinitely, an attempt to right what she had tried to wrong. On one side of him, Dawn gripped Xander's hand, squeezing hard as her eyes focused on Willow and the vessel just before her, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. On his other side Faith stood very still, her face carefully controlled, and did not touch him; when he had glanced over at her earlier, the stiffness of her body and facial features, however, had told Xander all he needed to know about how very difficult it was for her to be here, to continue to hold back her feelings from being made public knowledge.

As Willow slowly uncapped the vessel containing Buffy's soul, Xander sucked in his breath, hearing Dawn beside him take in a sharp breath as well, her grip on his hand tightening further still. Everyone was still, transfixed, as the vapor that was Buffy's soul had rose out of its container and into the air before them, spreading out thinly like a cloud of smoke or incense. To Xander's eyes it looked like it was sparkling faintly before it began to fade, eventually disappearing into nothingness. He continued to search for its remnants for a few moments… now the he could not see it, did that mean that Buffy's soul was at rest?

A bittersweetness closed in around Xander's heart, a longing and resentment for what he had lost, what they all had lost…but even in his sadness, he felt peace too. Buffy would be happy now, and for this, he too would try to be happy. In his head, if not his heart, he whispered his final goodbyes to her.

He saw out the corner of his eye that Dawn was crying quietly, that Willow was weeping as well as Kennedy knelt beside her, closing her arms around her. Beside Dawn Giles rested his hand on the younger Summers girl's shoulder, his face lined with a weary sadness that made him appear older to Xander than his actual age. As Xander slipped an arm around Dawn without words, he sensed rather than saw Faith begin to walk away. This time he did not follow her, knowing that at least for a few minutes, she would want and need to be alone.

As the emotion began to subdue itself slightly and Willow and Kennedy stood, arms around each other, beginning to head back towards their car, Xander hugged Dawn tightly, kissing her cheek, before surrendering her over to Giles. Walking slowly, he left to find Faith among the large, spread out area of the cemetery grounds.

As he had thought, she had not gone far. She was sitting on the ground behind a mausoleum, legs hugged to her chest, eyes closed as tears slowly trickled down her cheeks, no sound accompanying their descent. As Xander sank down on the grass beside her, encircling her shoulders with his arm, neither spoke. There was no need for overt acknowledgement; their shared presence was enough.

Eventually, they stood; eventually, they pulled apart from each other, and Xander let her retreat once more into separateness from him, from anyone. When he asked Faith if she wanted to go home with him, or even to have him keep her company anywhere she might want to go, she just shook her head again, choosing to walk off alone. Xander wasn't happy about this. He didn't know what would happen now- with her, with him, with the two of them in any context. She had been opening up to him in so many ways, even if not so much in words. In all the ways that counted, Faith had been laying herself out there emotionally for him, letting herself be vulnerable to him, and for her to be alone now after everything felt like a step backward, like an attempt at retreating again.

But Faith wanted it, maybe even needed it…it was her way of coping, of beginning to be able to process everything that had happened, that she and everyone else felt, and maybe her instincts were correct…maybe his presence as she struggled through would hinder more than help the process along. So whatever reservations he carried, Xander let her go, hoping that by the day's end she would return to him on her own.

And she did. Around eleven pm Xander heard the front door open, Faith's slow, heavy footsteps announcing her arrival, and it was understood without verbal exchange that she would again be staying the night.

She seemed subdued to Xander's eyes, distracted, as if lost in heavy thought, taking part in a continuous and draining internal battle. Or maybe Faith simply was weary to the point of no longer being able to care about anything at all. She said little in response to Xander's gentle attempts to question her, and when she looked at him, her brow furrowed, as if she were no longer sure who he was- or maybe, what he was to her. Seeing her behavior and knowing that she at least appeared to be sober, Xander let her be. He had his share of things on his mind after everything, his share of heaviness weighing on his heart, and time would tell what would occur for the both of them. He was too tired to rush it or to push Faith any more.

Faith ate, though with a distracted manner, as if she didn't really notice or care what she was putting in her mouth. She showered, borrowed some more of Xander's sweats and shirts, and she kept a physical as well as emotional distance from him, seldom meeting his eyes. Even so Xander sensed her struggle, sensed the pained confliction and sadness stirring inside her. One time he tried to talk to her about it, asking her if she was okay; when she circumvented his question and answered by asking him if he still had the toothbrush she had borrowed from him, Xander knew there was no point in trying any further.

Faith insisted that she sleep on his couch; when Xander attempted to argue, to tell her that she could have his bed, she would not be budged. He knew better than to tell her they could share the bed at this point, when she had already regressed to shying away from his words or touch. He knew as he lay alone in his bed, unable to fall asleep, that Faith too would not be able to sleep, not like this, not tonight. He suspected none of them would, not even Kennedy…as draining as the day had been, their weariness was not one that lent itself to slumber.

Seventy-three sleepless minutes after he had first lay to rest for the night, Xander was surprised and very relieved to hear his bedroom door open, and to make out the sight of Faith's face appearing in the doorway, her features tensed with uncertainty. He felt his muscles relax, a soft smile curve the corner of his lips, and he lay still without speaking, his eyes locked on hers, waiting.

Slowly Faith circled to the opposite side of the bed and pushed back the blanket, climbing in bed beside him, but lying there so that there was still distance between their bodies. She lay flat on her back for a few moments, staring up at the ceiling, and Xander could hear her shaky breaths exhaling erratically before she slowed them, rolling onto her side to face him, her eyes searching his in the room's dimness.

For a moment neither moved, and then Xander reached for her, pulling her close against his chest. She was small, a little cold, but he could feel the power and strength that her body harbored in his arms, and he tightened his hold, not wanting to let go.

She kissed him. Tilting her head, Faith pressed her lips against his with a softness that was tentative, searching, and infinitely tender for him to experience, made all the more so because he knew that this was not her usual way, that this kiss was a question, that this kiss meant more. Somehow her question must have been answered, for Faith kissed him again, harder, deeper, until Xander's heart threatened to beat straight out of his chest.

When her hand slid up his thigh, drifting over to cover his crotch, Xander caught her hand and held it, squeezing her fingers gently as he looked into her eyes. This didn't by any means mean that he didn't' want what she was offering, and his racing heart and the blood rushing heavily to certain parts of him indicated rather strongly the truth of this. But now was not the time…today was not the day, and he hoped that Faith could see this, could understand.

For a moment she frowned, pausing, her body tensing over his. But when Xander kissed her deeply again, then pulled her close against his chest, stroking one hand slowly up and down her back, Faith let him, her body gradually loosening, her breathing evening out. At some point in the night Xander could tell from the shifting of her body and the heaviness of her head against him that she had fallen asleep, and there was little time that passed after this before he joined her himself.

When they awakened hours later, neither had moved in the night, and they did not rush to do so then. It crossed Xander's mind as he lay with one hand lazily twined in Faith's wavy hair that this was the first night since she had come to him that Faith had not suffered one of the nightmares.

Nothing about this would be easy….helping and dealing with Willow, supporting and caring for Dawn, living and loving without Buffy….living and loving with Faith. But last night, this morning, was a start, for the both of them…and as far as starts go, Xander had to say that this one was pretty damn good so far.

End

December 2, 2009- March 28, 2010


End file.
